


The Perils of Dealing with Evil

by stickdonkeys



Series: The Perils of Dealing [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, BAMF Chloe Decker, BAMF Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Captivity, Deals, F/M, Hurt Chloe Decker, Hurt Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Hurt/Comfort, No win situations, Reveal, Winged Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), bad deals, multiple reveal, outed by science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickdonkeys/pseuds/stickdonkeys
Summary: During the final showdown with Cain, Chloe remains conscious while Lucifer shields her and sees his wings. Due to a deal gone bad, they are subsequently captured and imprisoned. How will she cope with being trapped with the Devil? What sacrifices will they have to make to ensure their survival? Will they escape and will their friendship survive or morph into something more? And how many more deals will it take to obtain freedom, if they can?
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: The Perils of Dealing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692859
Comments: 153
Kudos: 468





	1. The Truth Revealed and a Deal Made

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been bouncing around in my head since I read "Caging the Devil" by Hirscine_Taoist. If you haven't read it yet I highly recommend it. If you have, don't worry, this isn't the same story, just another take on the lovely idea explored by that author.

Even though she had been present for the entire situation, she wasn’t sure just how they had gotten to this impasse. It was apparent that Marcus had led them into a trap but from the way he spoke, this wasn’t the first time his cover had gone toes up and he’d had to move on with a new identity. In fact, he made it sound like he had done it hundreds of times before, but that was impossible. More confusing still, was his insistence that he had to kill Lucifer to pull it off this time. What was a nightclub owner going to do in the face of an international criminal organization, even with Lucifer’s odd connections and odder family. All she knew was that she should have waited for backup rather than rushing in, and that she couldn’t allow Marcus to kill Lucifer. Praying help got there fast, she moved attempting to pull her ex-fiance’s attention away from her partner.

“Marcus, we can all still walk out of here,” she said steadily moving to stand between Marcus and Lucifer, hoping to deescalate the situation before someone was killed. “I want to see Trixie and there are things I am sure you still want to do that don’t include dying here. But I can’t let you shoot Lucifer. Not only does he not deserve it, I just . . . I can’t let you shoot an innocent man to escape punishment. Don’t make me do this Marcus. Surrender. Please” 

“Just move, Chloe,” Marcus said, refusing to lower his weapon even as she refused to lower hers. She growled and wished she could do more than spare a glance at Lucifer as the idiot attempted to move out from behind her again. 

“I can’t do that, Marcus,” she said. “You know that. Please drop your gun.” 

“I can’t do that either,” he said, raising it a bit higher, regret clear in his expression. She knew before he did it that he intended to pull the trigger and pulled her own, aiming to wound him. She wasn’t quick enough and felt the round from his gun hit her in the chest before she heard the shot. The force of the impact knocked her backward, crushing the air from her lungs as the power of the bullet was distributed rather than piercing as it should have. Even so, she was thrown off balance and knew impact with the floor was imminent. She reflexively tightened her grip on her gun, putting her finger on the guard rather than the trigger, knowing that if she dropped it she was dead. Only that impact never came. Instead, she crashed into a warm, solid body that smelled faintly of sandalwood. 

He lowered them both to the ground, his hands frantically brushing over her chest searching for a wound to cover while a litany of pleading words fell from his lips. She wanted to reassure him but couldn't seem to draw the air to do it. And then with a great gasp, her diaphragm and lungs found one another, air had never tasted so sweet. She grasped his wrist to get his attention and was surprised to feel it trembling beneath her fingers. 

"Lucifer," she gasped, knowing in any other circumstances he would make a joke about leaving her breathless. She would almost welcome it now. Frantic and pleading were not what Lucifer should be, not when she has seen him wildly outnumbered with the cool grace of a predatory cat. This entire situation was wrong. 

"Detective, Chloe," he begged, a tone she hoped to never hear from his lips again, "please don't die. There has to be a way--"

"I'm wearing a vest," she said, laughing humorlessly. "I'll be okay." He looked at her in disbelief for a moment before she pulled back her shirt, revealing the kevlar. Only then did a small smile crossed his face, fear leaching slowly from his brown eyes to be replaced by amusement.

"You …" Lucifer's next words were drowned out by Pierce's roaring. 

"What the fuck?! You  _ shot  _ me, Decker!" He was climbing to his feet, holding his bleeding side, too far over to be lethal.  _ Bad call, _ her mind chastised.  _ Should've gone for center mass. Eliminate the threat. You knew better. _

"You were going to shoot Lucifer," she countered, raising her hands in an attempt to pacify him and wishing she sounded less breathless and more confident. She was pleased when her next sentence was stronger. "You're a crime boss. He's--"

"The actual fucking Devil," Pierce snapped, rage in every line of his body. "Not an innocent, Chloe. Not a good man. You choose wrong. You could have walked out of here alive but not now."

"Marcus," Chloe started hoping to reason with him, trying to keep her tone calm despite the fluttering of her rapid heartbeat in her throat. "You don't need to . . ." he turned his back and raised his hand to give the command to kill them as if she wasn't speaking.

"A deal," Lucifer's voice rang out, more urgent than she had ever heard it. "A blank check for anything you desire." Pierce turned and looked coldly over his shoulder.

"You've nothing I want that's yours to give," he said, nodding to his second-in-command. As rounds were chambered all around the rotunda, Lucifer knew what he had to do. Curling his body around her smaller one, he clutched her to his chest and whispered, "Apologies, Detective," before closing his eyes against the coming pain. He prepared himself to take a few rounds, but he refused to witness her realization of the truth of his nature. With a deep sigh, he summoned his wings, wrapping them both in the feathery cocoon. 

Chloe blinked at the sudden wall of white around them but had no time to do more than breathe his name before the cacophonous sound of gunfire rent the air. At first, she thought they were missing, but then she noticed the way the walls--no, wings, Lucifer's wings--trembled in time to the shots and his shoulders twitched as if trying to pull away and hold still at the same time. But it was when he screamed, a sound so full of agony it tore her heart from her chest, that it truly drove home that he truly was being shot countless times to buy them--her, could he even die?-- more time. After an eternity, the shots stopped. It was silent except for Lucifer's pained breathing.

"Are you okay," she asked, knowing it was a stupid question but feeling that 'are you going to die' was a bit too on the nose. His withering, incredulous glance was answer enough. Especially when, with a groan that sounded like it had been ripped from his guts, his right wing dropped. The feathers rustled as he tried to force it up again before giving up with a moan and moving to cover her with his right shoulder where his wing left her exposed.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, chest heaving as his limbs shook. "I meant to fly you out but. . ." he trailed off as a shudder wracked his entire frame. "I didn't expect so many bullets or how much," another shudder, this one with a low moan she felt more than heard. "Bloody hell, this hurts! Apologies, I shouldn't complain. You didn't ask this of me. I don’t mean to ..." another moan cut his words off. She reached for him only to pull her hand back, unsure what she could do to help or what would only cause him more pain.

"Lucifer, you--"

"Still willing to make a deal?" Pierce called, moving into Lucifer's line-of-sight where his wing dipped. Chloe watched as all traces of pain melted from his face, concealed behind an icy mask, though flames lit the brown depths of his eyes. He even managed to conceal the worst of the shudders, only the fine tremor in his hands betraying him.

"Less so than I was, but if the price is right," he said, his voice smooth and clipped, showing no sign of the shudder of moments before. "What do you offer?"

"Chloe lives," Pierce said simply, cocking his head to the side with a shrug.

"In exchange?" Lucifer asked, eyebrow raising. 

"You surrender, unconditionally."

"Lucifer, no," Chloe said, knowing from his expression he was considering it. "There's too many variables. That's too open. This is Marcus. He’s many things but he’s not stupid. He's  _ planning _ something. There  _ has _ to be another way." He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips, brown eyes full of sorrow. The back of his knuckle stroked her cheek where a splatter of his blood had fallen. 

"There's not," he said. "There's no other way out where you live. And he’s smart but he’s only human. There’s little he can do to me that I can’t survive. And if he kills me, I just go back to Hell.” She was about to attempt to protest when he turned his head back to Pierce and said loudly, “I accept. We have a deal. I’ll surrender and she lives."

"Then open your wings," Pierce commanded. "Fold them behind you and keep them out. And let him have Decker." With a grimace, Lucifer opened his wings and forced them to fold, the act leaving him panting and causing bullets to fall to the ground. His hands fluttered as Cain's man grabbed Chloe but he did nothing to resist. Maybe they would take her outside to release her and she wouldn't be forced to watch his end. He held no illusions that he would survive what Cain had planned for him and would rather she not feel guilt over his choice. 

"Bind them," Cain ordered, gesturing at some chains by some crates. His left wing twitched unconsciously out of reach of the man behind him. With the exception of Linda and Chloe, no mortal had ever touched his wings while they were attached to him and he was loath to allow it now, especially with the intent of binding them. Not since his Fall… he cut the thought off viciously and turned to Cain seeking to reason with him. 

"I've done as you’ve asked and will continue to do so but please--"

"Unconditional surrender, Lucifer," Cain reminded him, his eyes revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing and what it would remind the Devil of. "You get no requests. Unless you want Chloe dead." Lucifer said nothing but seemed to deflate as he placed his folded wing back in the man's hand and allowed it to be wrapped in chains binding it to his drooping right one. He offered no protest even with the chains were wrapped around his waist to further control his wings. He tried to look anywhere but the horror in the Detective's eyes as he was bound. He couldn't stand her horror and his memories both.

"Wrists too," Cain said. "Hands behind your back." Lucifer shook his head, his eyes pleading for something else. A gun was cocked and placed to Chloe's head, only then, with a shudder that shook his entire frame did he move his arms and allow his wrists to be bound between his wings and back as well. That done, he bent forward, his forehead nearly to his knees. From the way his shoulders shook, Chloe knew he was weeping. The Devil, a true fallen angel was bleeding and bound and weeping for her sake. She suddenly felt incredibly filthy and nauseous. Unworthy.

"You  _ bastard _ !" She snarled at Pierce, attempting to pull free of the man that held her. Thankfully he wasn't expecting true violence and when she stomped his instep with her heel he released her on instinct. Free, she wavered for a moment between Lucifer, the exit and Pierce. Before she could decide, he was there, preternaturally fast, and she was on the floor right cheek stinging from a blow she hadn't seen coming. 

"You broke the deal," she muttered, her cheek beginning to throb. "I'm not uninjured. Now untie him. You can see he can’t stand it."

"I broke nothing," Pierce replied. "The deal was alive, not unharmed. And as  _ you  _ tried to tell him, there are many variables to that condition. Including freedom. Cuff her. We've got to move." She glanced at Lucifer in time to see a flash of regretful brown eyes before his head bowed again in defeat as her hands were cuffed in front of her. It seemed they feared her less than they feared him. The Devil, a broken, fallen angel.

It was wrong. All of this was wrong. Every small sound of pain torn from him as the descent down the stairs jarred his wings, the way he said nothing as they shoved him to direct him down industrial corridors. It was all wrong. When they hit the loading dock, she eyed him wondering if she were to grab his arm and run would he, could he, follow? She knew he didn’t break deals, but  _ could  _ he? If she were to pull him, could they make it to the street and--

"Variables on that condition, Decker," Pierce muttered. "Don't make me hurt you. As long as you both behave, I won’t. Now get in the truck." She hesitated, glancing at Lucifer again. "My deal with him mentioned nothing about  _ his _ continued existence or condition. I suggest you do as I ask." Feeling her guts twist uncomfortably, she did as instructed, every instinct she had screaming it was the wrong thing to do. But she had no choice, not if she wanted to live and have a chance to escape because she had no doubt in her mind that Marcus would kill both her and Lucifer, and she wasn’t sure that with the deal in place Lucifer could stop him, if he ever could. With a shuddering sigh, she stepped into the box truck, glaring at Pierce who was grinning like the cat that ate the damn canary.

"Get in, Lucifer," Pierce ordered but Lucifer didn't move, his horrified eyes stared ahead unfocused. "I think I broke him. Who knew all it took was a little bondage to reduce the Devil to ruin." Before she could reply, Pierce shoved Lucifer down the slight drop into the truck. He stumbled, a strangled cry rising up the Devil's throat. Chloe tried to catch him, knowing that with his hands and wings-- _ oh God,  _ he had  _ wings--  _ bound he wouldn't be able to stop himself. His weight and momentum drove them both to the floor. She groaned as her head hit the floor of the truck but Lucifer gave no sign he knew what happened. Pierce sneered at her struggles to get out from under her partner when he couldn't or wouldn't help and she couldn't get her arms from between them to nudge him off. 

"Good luck with the Devil, Decker," Pierce said before sliding the door of the truck down, plunging them into darkness, the latch sliding closed with sickening finality. Chloe lay there for a moment taking stock. Nothing was broken though the back of her head and her cheek throbbed rather insistently and her wrists and stomach ached from where Lucifer's weight pressed her handcuffs into her flesh. Lucifer had checked out for some reason and would be no help. They were both bound and in a truck. Lucifer was injured and bleeding.  _ Shit  _ she hoped his recent silence wasn't hypovolemic shock. Could angels--devils?--even get shock? How was worrying about that her life now? Mentally shaking herself she tried to focus on what needed done. She needed to stop the bleeding and to do that she needed him off of her. Step one had to be to get out from under Lucifer. She tried to squirm out from under him. It was a mark of how wrong this all was that he made no comment on her squirming. 

"Lucifer, you have to help me," she said, hoping that if she spoke he would snap out of it. It was rapidly becoming clear that for her to get out he would have to move. 

"I can't move you,” she tried again. “I can’t use my arms and you're too heavy. Come on, Lucifer!" He gave no sign he had heard her at all. She lay below him as the truck rumbled to life and focused on drawing air into her lungs despite his weight and biding her time until the truck turned and she could use physics to help roll him.  _ Please don't die, _ she silently begged.  _ I don't want you to die.  _


	2. Memories and Masks

He knew allowing himself to be pulled into his memories was unacceptable, Cain had them, the Detective needed him but he couldn't stop it. He could feel the memory tugging on him the moment his throbbing wings were bound. He pulled savagely away from it clinging to the knowledge that  _ she _ needed him, but when Cain commanded his wrists bound,the sensations were too similar to keep the memories easily at bay. And the look of horror, disgust and betrayal on the Detective’s face was the final nail in the coffin of his resistance. 

Flashes of Michael, burning sharp, stabbing pain as his wings were broken and bound by his twin and his siblings. He'd refused to beg, embracing the sin he was said to have committed, even as he'd been paraded, bound and beaten through the streets of the Silver City, every step shooting agony through his broken bones, for the crime of wanting more and asking why. Even as his twin had strung him up in the central square by his mangled wings, his shoulders screaming from the waring forces of his immobilized arms and wrenched wings, he hadn't begged. Even as the hours stretched to days and the muscles of his body twisted into knots, he refused to beg or cry out. Eventually, he wasn't certain how long he was there, his Father descended.

"Will you repent, Samael?" He asked, though they both knew He already knew the answer.

"I cannot repent that which I do not regret," he had replied, hating how weak his own voice sounded. "All I ask is the right to choose. To be responsible for my own fate. That is not an outrageous request."

"It is forbidden," He replied. "Such a desire and the pride to demand it are anathema to my kingdom. Will you not repent, accept your punishment and be welcomed back to the fold?"

"I cannot," Samael whispered, knowing he sealed his own doom but unable to live a half-life any more. "I cannot."

"Then you leave me no choice," He said, his voice holding an emotion Samael couldn't name, "You are to be cast out. Banished forever from Our sight. May your  _ choice _ please you." Verdict delivered, his chains vanished, dropping him onto his own unprepared legs without warning. They didn't hold him and he fell to his knees a startled cry rising unbidden from his throat. His broken wings collapsed around him, the bone edges grating as they moved for the first time in too long. He shifted trying to loosen his knotted muscles but it only sent fire racing through him. 

"Remove him," He said before vanishing. Michael, his twin, was there, hauling him to his feet before he could catch his breath and dragging him to the edge of The City. Samael hoped he didn't imagine the regret in Michael's hazel eyes as he whispered "goodbye, Brother," and gave him a push. The next far too long was terror and falling and pain. His shattered wings struggled desperately to slow his fall only to collapse as the poorly healed bones broke anew. He screamed and begged and prayed but no help came and then the falling ended with his abrupt impact with the ground. And oh it hurt! He hadn't known such pain was possible. He expected it would kill him, hoped it would kill him. Could he even die? And then a voice came across his mind like the prayers of his siblings.  _ Please don't die. I don't want you to die _ , it said. 

But the voice wasn't his siblings. The words were wrong. The language, though one he knew wasn't  _ theirs.  _ It was English. But English, humans were not yet invented. He shifted experimentally and found he was still bound, a multitude of points of pain blossomed from his wings, which unconsciously flexed against their bonds. There was a smaller, warm body under him pressing against him, their breath moist against his neck and an odd rumbling with the faint smell of exhaust, fear, blood and roses. And then his name. Not the one he'd been given but the one he'd chosen; Lucifer. Spoken by a woman, the same who had prayed to him. The source of the fear and roses. Chloe. 

"Please, Lucifer, you have to help me," she was saying, pleading. She should have known she didn’t have to beg. He would give her whatever she wanted if she would only ask. He waited, wanting to know what she desired so he could give it to her. "I can't lift you and I can't help you if I’m stuck under you. You  _ have  _ to roll.  _ Please _ . I can't move you by myself and you're going to die. Don't let me be the cause of you dying."

"'m not dying," he muttered, trying to reassure her." Bloody well hurts too much for me to be dying."

"Lucifer! I thought you . . ." She found she couldn't complete the thought.

"You have to try harder than that to kill the Devil, darling," he responded glibly before freezing, his body going preternaturally still as he remembered she knew the truth. "Are you alright, Detective?" She laughed bitterly.

"My head hurts and you're crushing me but I'm fine," she said. "Only you would worry about me when you're bleeding out from hundreds of bullet wounds to your fucking angel wings!"

"Not angel wings, Detective," he replied softly, raising his knee and rolling off of her. He was reluctant to remind her when she seemed to be coping so well but it would not do to allow her to think he was something he was not. "I'm the Devil, remember. I haven't been an angel since before humans were even a species."

"Not to me," she said, the ghost of a smile gracing her face as she echoed her words from earlier. "Let's see if I can get you untied and . . . do you think you can break these?"

"Like wet paper, darling," he replied before scooting away from her searching hands, "But it's best that I remain bound."

"You're not going to hurt me, Lucifer," she replied exasperated. "And I'm not going to fall apart if you're free to move." He scoffed, shooting her another withering glance.

"Have you forgotten how we arrived here? Wherever the bloody hell here is. Cain commanded my unconditional surrender, I gave it. He commanded I be bound and bound I will remain until he orders me freed."

"Lucifer, that has to hurt," Chloe tried, hoping to appeal to his more hedonistic tendencies. "Let me try to help."

"Of course it hurts, Detective," he snapped. "I've got bullets in my bloody wings, the chains aren't helping either but I will not allow you to untie me. I can bear this.” His voice grew softer and he looked at her, his eyes suddenly ancient and unbearably sad.

“I've borne much worse. But if they were to kill you, especially for a little bit of comfort, that I could not bear. Don’t ask that of me,” he said, his tone sincere. 

"Why?" She asked. "Why would you allow them to do this to you for me? You’re the Devil, a fallen angel and I’m … I’m just me." He said nothing, unable to voice his reasoning. Not when she had no way to escape it. To escape him. 

"So, where are we?" He asked, making no attempt at a smooth transition. "A box truck?"

"You don't remember getting shoved into the truck?" Chloe asked, her tone shooting through three octaves. "Lucifer, are you--"

"I'll be fine, Detective, he cut her off. "I'm afraid my memories were more powerful than the present. Apologies. That hasn't happened in quite some time. But I don't often allow myself to be bound and no one has bound my wings since. . . "It was his turn to trail off,unable to finish his thought. 

"Since your. . . Fall?" She asked softly, reaching for him only to retract her hand as he curled away from it.

"You know of that, do you? " he asked a flicker of humor breaking through his clear horror.

"I've heard of it," she agreed. "But I think the real story probably differs from the one I heard. I can't see you leading an army against heaven for the throne."

"I never wanted to rule heaven," he agreed, his tone weary, resigned. "Just myself. And there were no armies. Just me and Michael. He won. I was punished and banished. And that's it." She could tell there was more but knew that interrogating trauma victims was never productive. And as much as he might deny it, it was clear to her that it had been more traumatic that he was saying. 

"So if the Devil and Michael are real, what about Gabriel?" she asked, trying to slightly change the subject.

"Real and a prat," Lucifer replied. "God too." She nodded, fighting to keep her facial expression neutral while her atheistic worldview crashed around her. She nodded.

"And Amenadiel? Also an angel?" Lucifer nodded, watching her carefully, almost like he expected her to run screaming any second. "So Charlotte?"

"Flown to Heaven on the wings of an angel," Lucifer confirmed. 

"So when you said you meant to fly me out earlier, you meant literally?" She asked, her eyes glazing over as she remembered the agony in his voice and the sorrow. Followed immediately by his chameleon act, an act she now realized he was still continuing. Other than some tension around his eyes, he seemed almost like himself and there was no way he wasn’t still in pain. How much more had he been hiding over the years?

"Of course I meant literally!" He snorted, missing her epiphany. "They're not just for looks, Detective. Quite useful in a fight too. One good beat can knock hordes of demons off their feet. And if they get too close, the primaries are wickedly sharp."

"Demons?" Chloe breathed, having another unpleasant epiphany. "Demons from Hell. Maze is an  _ actual _ demon. You let me move a  _ demon _ into my home? With Trixie?!"

"Maze gave me her word that she would do no harm to you or your offspring," Lucifer said, his tone dark. "It is not a promise she would break. The consequences would be dire." Chloe shivered at the implication that such a mistake would have proved fatal. 

"You still should have told me," she groused. 

"You wouldn't have believed me, darling," he grinned. "After all, I've told you from our first meeting that I am the Devil and it took me whipping out my wings and getting shot to prove it."

"Don't do that," Chloe whispered, feeling nauseous again as his broken, weeping form flashed across her mind, of the trembling he couldn’t contain, of the blood spreading through the white feathers as bullets caused them to quiver. 

"Remind you I'm the Devil?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd've thought the great glowing white things sprouting from my back would've kept it fresh--"

"Not that," she cut him off, irrationally irritated by his act of being okay when she knew he couldn’t be. "Acting like what happened, getting shot, getting trussed up like an animal, getting kidnapped and loaded into a damn box truck like cargo, acting like  _ that _ is a minor inconvenience."

"What would you have me do, Chloe?" He asked visibly deflating, pain creasing his face and tremors she couldn’t see but could hear in the rustling of feathers and the clinking of chain returning. "I've already admitted it hurts. More than once. Do you want me to curl into a ball and sob? Tell you I’m in agony and that every jolt of the truck feels like I’m being stabbed where the bullets are still embedded in my flesh? Beg you to make it stop when I know you can't? What would that accomplish other than hurting you? Isn't it better, easier if I just mask it?"

"If that's what you want," she said finally. "After all, it's my fault you--"

"It's not!" he roared, his eyes briefly flashing with hellfire before returning to their normal brown. "You  _ will not _ blame yourself for this. It was  _ my  _ choice to allow myself to be shot, Cain's choice to shoot me and my foolishness and desperation that led to this horrible deal. One you tried to talk me out of by the way. None of this is your fault and I will not sit by while you damn yourself with misplaced guilt."

"But without me there to protect, you'd have been--"

"Invulnerable, yes, I know," he cut her off again, too agitated to adhere to polite rules of conversation, or remember that she was unaware of that feature of her presence. "I do not regret my decision to protect you. Besides, this isn't the worst they've ever been through."

"You're invulnerable away from me?" she asked softly, recalling a conversation in which he mentioned that she made him vulnerable but she'd thought it was a metaphor. He blinked, his expression clouding as he realized what he'd said. 

"I do not regret defending you," he repeated firmly. "I knew when I decided to do it that the bullets weren't going to bounce off. I will heal from this, Chloe. I . . . I couldn't bear to lose you. If this is the price to keep you alive, I accept it. I will bend to Cain's will if it keeps you alive."

"Cain? You mean the . . ."

"First murderer, inventor of fratricide, cursed by dear old Dad to wander the earth for eternity, immortal but not unkillable," Lucifer offered. "Yes, that Cain."

"And I almost married him," she said in a small voice. His chains rattled and she knew he had reached for her before the motion was aborted. 

"I tried to tell you," he offered, his voice soft.

"You did," she agreed. "And I wrote it off as jealousy. I'm so sorry, Lucifer. I should have believed you. As far as I know, you've never lied to me."

"I don't lie, Detective," he countered.

"Don't or can't?" she asked, knowing that their lives might depend on the distinction.

"Don't," he replied. "It's a point of pride. I don't lie and I don't break deals."

"But you could,” she pressed, needing to know if he was bound to honor his deal with Pierce by magic or pride. 

"I don't," he snapped, the finality in his tone making the hairs on her neck rise. She nodded mutely, unable to find her voice with the otherness radiating from him. Suddenly it faded and she could breathe again. "Apologies, Detective. My pride is one of the few things I've always managed to keep. My one consistent character trait and my best and worst feature." She nodded, knowing he would not be swayed in that conviction but there was still something she needed to know. 

"Lucifer, if you wanted to be free, could those chains contain you?" Chloe asked, watching his face carefully. He shifted slightly as though testing them and then shook his head with a small hum. 

"Probably not," he eventually said. "They're only iron, and not particularly good iron. Were I unscathed they wouldn't have a chance but well. . . as we've established, my wings are in rather poor condition at the moment. They  _ might  _ hold. But probably not." She nodded, having mostly expected that answer. They lapsed into a somewhat uncomfortable silence after that. She, irritated that he  _ could  _ probably free them both but wouldn't and he, finding that in the silence his memories were too loud and too close. Only his fear of hurting Chloe by accident were his wings to unfurl in such an enclosed space and his fear of Cain killing her should he break his word kept him bound. Even so, he couldn't help being thankful for her presence, the steady breathing grounding him to the present that for all its discomforts was better than the past. He hated himself for being glad she was with him.


	3. Cages and Cables

Chloe woke slowly. Her body was lying on something hard but her cheek was on something warm and soft. She moved her left hand to sit up only for the movement to be stopped by pressure on her right wrist. Her eyes shot open taking in the box truck, her cuffed wrists and what was clearly Lucifer's leg that her cheek was resting on. She stiffened before sitting up slowly and turning to face him,trying to gauge his reaction to being an impromptu pillow. He offered her a smile that on anyone else would have been sheepish but she couldn't place the emotion behind it on him.

"Apologies. You fell asleep," he offered. "Sitting up. If you can do that you clearly need to sleep more often." She snorted but said nothing as he continued, "the road became rough and I moved closer intending to keep you propped but, well, it didn't work. Your head ended up where it was and well . . . you said my name so I assumed you didn't mind. Not that I could remove you without dropping your head on the floor but. . . "

"Thank you, Lucifer," she said softly, realizing that the emotion she couldn't place was guilt. "It was definitely more comfortable than I would have been bouncing my head off the floor of a bumping truck." It was then that she realized what was missing; the truck had stopped. 

"We're stopped," she said looking at him in fear. When kidnappers got their victims where they were going, especially victims they'd already tried to kill . . . she began searching for a weapon finding none she tested her handcuffs again, finding them no looser than before. 

"They won't kill you," Lucifer said softly, his tone radiating malice. "I won't allow it." 

"But your deal with Pierce," Chloe said. "The surrender was unconditional."

"No, he agreed that you live. _That_ was the only condition. I will not wait for him to break his end before I break mine. Any hint of an attempt on your life constitutes a breach of contract and will free me to do as I will," he almost sounded smug, as though he had figured out a brilliant loophole that Pierce had missed. She couldn't bring herself to remind him that a gun had been held to her head more than once.

"So, you never break deals or tell lies but you skirt truths and capitalize on technicalities," she clarified, snorting slightly. He smirked in response but his reply was cut off by the sound of the latch grating. She glanced towards the door as light flooded the space, blinding her. When her eyes adjusted, it wasn't kidnappers that filled her vision but bleeding white wings wrapped in iron. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt better with him between her and them. 

"Decker," Pierce snapped. "Stop cowering behind Lucifer and get out of the truck. He won't survive another round of being shot. Neither will you for that matter. Count of ten we start shooting. One. . . Two--"

"I'm coming," she called. She moved to leave but Lucifer stood firmly in her way. "Lucifer, let me go. It'll be ok." _It has to be_ , she thought desperately. He still blocked her path. 

"That's five, Decker," Pierce called. "Six. . ."

"Don't make me watch them kill you, Lucifer!" Chloe snapped. "Move!" He turned to look at her, his expression incredulous but gave her the space she needed to slip past him. Fighting back tears and knowing that it was both the wrong choice and the only one she could make, she climbed out of the truck, a move complicated by her bound hands. Her throat began to itch as each of her elbows were grabbed by one of Pierce's goons. 

"Your turn, Lucifer," Pierce instructed. "Nice and slow. Decker's continued health depends on your behavior." There was a feral growl from the truck and paired fires flickered to life. It was only as he stalked forward that Chloe realized the fires were his eyes, alight with hellfire in his rage. She stumbled and almost fell as her guards took an involuntary step back. Pierce, however,was unimpressed.

"Cut the theatrics and get out of the truck," he said, his tone bored. "Don't harm me or my people and she'll be fine. Damage to us will be repaid in kind. Now get down here."

"As you wish," Lucifer snarled, his eyes still glowing and menace radiating from him in waves. He eyed the lip of the truck and the ground a moment before jumping, the barest flicker of pain flitting across his face before vanishing behind his mask of disdain once more. 

"I'm out of your bloody truck, what else do you want, Cain," Lucifer demanded glancing around the industrial area with a haughty glare. "I tire of this game."

"I don't care," Pierce scoffed. "You surrendered. You don't get a vote. Now, get in the building." Lucifer gave a long suffering sigh and walked through the door to the warehouse, sparing a glance for the guard inside who reached for his arm. The poor man withdrew his hand, apologizing profusely while backing away, knocking over a shelf in his desperation to put space between them.

"I'm not responsible for that," Lucifer said over his shoulder. "You need to hire people with better willpower. He couldn't even resist a glare. I wonder what he would have done if I had turned my full anger on him." 

"Get in the cage, Lucifer," Pierce sighed, rubbing his face and wondering if he shouldn’t have just killed them. 

"A cage," Lucifer scoffed, nodding towards the bit of chain link and aluminum poles. "You call that a cage? You think that pathetic excuse for a cage will hold me? I'm the Devil, Cain. That wouldn’t even contain your run of the mill predator. Let alone a celestial being.

"Get in," Pierce snapped. "If I want commentary on your accommodations, I'll ask. And whether or not it can actually hold you, you'll stay there for her sake or I'll consider your part of our deal broken."

Lucifer seethed but stalked into the space like a tiger. He tried to smile reassuringly at Chloe as she was marched into the cage. His smile faltered and anger broke through again as her arms raised over her head and her cuffs clipped to a hook. Her toes barely touched and she could feel the cuffs cutting into her wrists. It was uncomfortable and exposed, she hated how vulnerable and afraid she felt as she waited to see what they had planned.

"Back up to the fence and I'll free you from those chains, Lucifer," Pierce said, walking along the outside with a pair of bolt cutters. 

"I'm to be freed?" Lucifer asked, excitement in his tone.

"From the chains," Pierce clarified. Lucifer nodded but didn't back up. Instead his shoulders flexed, pain filled his face for a moment and with a shrill sound the links of the chains spread and snapped, freeing his wings and wrists. The left held its own but the right wing drug the ground still. 

"I told you that it was unlikely to be able to hold me, Detective," a slightly breathless tremble the only hint at what that display had cost him. She offered him a small smile in response. Their moment was aborted as Pierce came in the cage with a woman carrying a tool Chloe couldn't name. Lucifer glared but Pierce ignored him, reaching out to stroke the feathers of his right wing reverently before saying, "I suggest you restrain yourself for her sake." He nodded to the woman who hesitantly reached forward, her fingers shaking and parted the feathers just past the wrist of his right wing. 

"Sir, I. . . I can't," she said, shaking her head and withdrawing her hand. "These wings. . . they're. . ."

"On the Devil," Pierce snapped. "Do it." She audibly swallowed before reaching for his wing again, parting the feathers and placing the tool so the wing was between the arms, the bare patch towards the end. "God forgive me," she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek as she pulled the lever. A roar tore from Lucifer's throat and the wing withdrew, knocking her over and slicing three gashes into her arm with the long primaries. When he stilled, Chloe could see a shining silver grommet embedded in his flesh. Pierce examined the woman on the floor, holding up three fingers and nodding. Before she could blink, her guard pulled a knife and slashed her arm three times. It was a mark of how sharp it was that she could feel her blood flowing down her arm before she felt the sting of the cuts. She must have gasped because even in the midst of his own agony, Lucifer looked up at her. When he registered the blood, his face shifted into a snarl. 

"Three cuts on my person, three cuts on yours," Pierce intoned. "I warned you, Lucifer. Now bring that wing back here. We're not done yet."

"I am," the woman argued, backing away along the floor. "I-I-I can't do that again." 

"He won't attack again," Pierce said. "He'll be good. Won’t you, Lucifer?"

"That's not it," she argued. "When I took this job you didn't tell me I would be riveting _angel_ wings or that they'd be attached to a living, breathing, feeling _angel._ I can't do it again. I'm already going to Hell for that. Favor owed or not, I can't do that again."

"Give me the gun," Pierce scoffed, grabbing it roughly before seizing Lucifer's wing on the opposite side of the wrist joint and pulling the lever again. This time it was met with a groan but no effort was made to pull away. Pierce flexed the wing a few times seeing how it bent before moving up by the elbow and positioning the pliers. Lucifer's feathers ruffled briefly before stilling, his jaw clenching and nostrils flaring in anticipation of pain. Then the lever was squeezed and another aborted sound rose from Lucifer's throat, the feathers on the entire wing fluffing up and quivering. Pierce moved to the other side of the elbow, forcing the jaws over the bone and onto the fleshy part again.

"Please, Marcus," Chloe said, begging for the mercy Lucifer wouldn't, "stop this. This isn't you, this cruelty. Just let us go. Take our phones make us walk back. You'll have a hell of a headstart. Make him not retaliating a condition. He'll honor it. He's letting you do this because of a deal. Please. I want to see Trixie again. Please, Marcus." For a moment he didn't respond, eyeing her carefully before pulling the lever again, a startled bitter cry coming from Lucifer before it was cut off in a shaky inhalation. 

"Hell's the problem, Decker. You see, Lucifer did keep his word and help me solve my immortality problem but now, I don't want to die," he explained. "And I need him alive and captive for that to not happen. Sadly that means you stay to keep him docile. One wing done." Pierce moved to the left one but Lucifer pulled it away shaking his head. 

"You'll need help," he panted. "I won't be able to hold that one still. The right one was more damaged but that one is mostly whole. I can’t--" 

"You'll figure it out," Pierce scoffed, cutting him off. "Where do you want me to start?" Lucifer looked at him incredulously. When it became apparent that he expected an answer, Lucifer sighed.

"The tip,"he said softly. "And for the love of Dad, tie it to something once it's done."

"Lucifer," Chloe breathed, remembering how poorly he'd reacted to being bound. He looked at her, his eyes looking far older than the rest of him. 

"He's bloody well going to do it anyway, Detective," he offered, his tone bitter. "This way I don't hurt them and they don't hurt you." Before they could say anything more, the lever was pushed and Lucifer contorted, his wing smacking Pierce into the bars before curling forward and wrapping around him where he unconsciously rubbed the grommet. It was only when Pierce rose groaning that he seemed to realize what he'd just done. 

"Cain, it was an accident," Lucifer began. "I told you you'd require assistance and--"

"And you didn't warn him it was coming," Chloe added as her ex-fiance advanced with murder in his eyes and a rapidly growing bruise on his cheek. Lucifer's warning that he was dangerous rang in her mind and she was suddenly glad their marriage had never happened. The fear she'd been feeling faded to hatred and disgust as she realized he'd played her, hiding an ocean of cruelty behind a wounded facade. He raised his fist and she glared up at him. He faltered a moment before hitting her hard enough she would have fallen if she hadn't been chained upright. Her entire left cheek throbbed in time to her heartbeat but rather than cry she redoubled her glare and spat in Marcus' face.

"Fuck you," she muttered. "Coward. Beating a tied woman and extorting someone more powerful than you."

"That's a regular Tuesday afternoon, Decker," Pierce snarled, wiping the spit from his cheek and stalking back to Lucifer hooking his finger through the grommet and pulling the wing out again. A twitch of his head brought both of Chloe's guards to his side.

"Hold him," he ordered. Both men seemed reluctant to touch the wing. Pierce sighed. "On your belly, Lucifer."

"I think not," Lucifer scoffed. "I haven't prostrated myself in eons. You won't be my first."

"They're weaker on the up stroke, right?" Pierce asked. "It's our best odds of pinning them and keeping Decker from harm. That's what you _desire,_ isn't it? "

"Lucifer, don't," Chloe said, seeing her partner wavering. "Don't give him the satisfaction. He only wants you to because his guys are having second thoughts. They don't want to touch you. As powerful as he is, they fear you more. Use it. Stop letting him do this to you. You've been declaring you're the devil for years and complaining about the lack of respect. Is this how you ruled Hell? On your knees?"

"She's right, you know," Lucifer said softly, the ghost of a smirk crossing his lips. He lazily rolled his head to face them, rising sinuously to his feet and turning to face them. "I did rule Hell for millennia. You know that's where you're going for this, right? Shooting, capturing, chaining and torturing the Devil. Final destination for that is Hell, I'm afraid."

"He doesn't decide that," Pierce cut in, seeing their uneasy glances. He hadn't expected Lucifer to play this card with Chloe watching and actually believing him. If Lucifer won them over he didn't hold all the cards. He had to prevent Lucifer from gaining support by any means necessary.

"He doesn't have that kind of power," Cain continued. "We decide where we end up. If you don't feel guilty you don't go to hell. You're not doing anything wrong. He's the fucking Devil! He holds no power over you unless you let him."

"I don't," Lucifer agreed brightly. "Beauty of the design, really. Humans do decide their own fate, get what they feel they deserve in the end. But this, oh, this will eat at their souls. Restraining the divine, breaking something so pure as angel wings, even those of the Devil himself, it'll _haunt_ them. And you can't cage me forever. She's good for fifty, sixty years at the most and then I'll be free. I'll kill you and then look for your souls in Hell. And an eternity is a lot longer than fifty years, gentlemen."

"He's bluffing," Pierce snapped. "Once we get this done he'll never escape. Now help me." One man stepped forward but the other hung back, shaking his head. 

"I can't do it, Boss," he said, biting his lip. "I've done a shit-load of jobs for you for money but there ain't enough money in the whole damn world. I can't. I already shot him and he didn't die. That was a whole fucking clip, Boss. And not just one. And he's got actually fucking _bleeding_ wings. I believe him when he says he's the Devil. I don't feel like that's an enemy I should make."

"He's already your enemy," Pierce growled. "You shot him, kidnapped him and his partner and stood idly by as he was tortured. Do you think he'll forgive that?"

"I will," Lucifer purred, his tone smooth as silk. "In fact, if you help us out of here, I'd even be in your debt. An IOU from the Devil, darling, redeemable at _your_ convenience. What is it you _desire?_ " Before he could answer, a shot rang out and the man crumpled to the ground, blood pumping in spurts from the hole in his chest. Lucifer spun to see Cain holding a pistol with a disgusted look on his face.

"Any more objections?" Pierce asked, holstering the gun once more. There were a few negative responses before he gestured another few men in. 

"Against the wall, Lucifer," he commanded. Chest heaving, the Devil complied. He resisted the urge to fight as multiple hands grabbed his wing pinning it in place. He fought to keep his eyes open, the warehouse beyond his cage reminding him that the hands weren't his brothers' and sisters' pinning him for Michael to break his wings. Just men. He was glad the Detective hadn't allowed him to agree to the floor. That would have been far too much like when his siblings had held him for him to resist fighting them. And if he fought, she would be the one to pay. He clutched that thought as fire scorched along his nerves three more times. Only then was he allowed to slump to his knees, his left wing curling around him once more while the right trembled in an attempt to do the same. He was only allowed a moment before a heavy steel cable was threaded through the grommets of both wings and they were forced to a half-furled position before clamps were placed on the cable against each wing at the grommet by the tip, locking them there.

That done, Pierce stepped out of the cage. "Lock it," he said. "And make sure he doesn't have enough leash to get to the lock."

"He needs medical attention," Chloe snapped. "You can't just leave him to bleed, you bastard."

"Good thing you're here," Pierce replied dismissively. "Toss them some pliers and the first aid kit and get rid of the bodies." There was an affirmation and before a question could be asked as to who the second body was, Pierce shot the woman who had refused to help.

"No witnesses," he said looking at Chloe with emotionless eyes. She swallowed heavily, refusing to cry in front of Pierce. Even though such wanton violence disturbed her to her core. Especially since their continued existence was in his hands.

“Lucifer may be the Devil, but you’re the one who’s evil, Marcus!” she yelled after him. 

“Sticks and stones, Decker,” he called back, not even turning to look at her. “Sticks and stones.” 


	4. First Aid and First Responders

Eventually someone came back with the first aid kit and threw it and the pliers on the floor of the cell. Problem was, no one had bothered to free Chloe. She hated to ask him for anything else after what he'd just endured but she could see no way to free herself without him and she had to be free to help. She tried, unsuccessfully, once more before resigning herself to asking for help. She eyed him, kneeling on the floor, wings threaded with cable secured to a wench that looked like it could lift a blue whale, wishing there was a way that didn't force him to move but there wasn't and she was losing the feeling in her fingers. She only hoped he _could_ help.

"Lucifer, can you move?" She asked, dreading the answer and trying and failing to keep it from her voice.

"Of course I can bloody well move," he groused. "I just don't want to. It hurts when the cable pulls and I can't seem to keep it from doing that."

"I’m sorry and knowing that it will hurt you, I really hate to ask this but since you _can_ move, can I get you to untie me," she asked, hating how unsure she sounded. "I-I can't feel my hands." At that he looked up at her for the first time since she had reminded him she _knew._ He'd been too ashamed to face her after he'd embraced his darker side and failed to gain them freedom. The sight of her trussed up, nearly suspended, bleeding and bruised awoke fury in him. He knew how uncomfortable such a position became after a very short amount of time and she hadn’t been there for a short time. 

"They left you like that?" he snarled, the feral sound raising the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Please get me down," she whispered unwilling to tell him how much discomfort she was in when she knew he had to be feeling worse. He stood, radiating wrath, and stalked to where she was, the cable dragging unheaded across the ground behind him. Once he reached her, he wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her as though she weighed nothing before breaking the chain of the cuffs with the other hand and setting her feet on the ground, his arm remaining around her until he was sure she had her footing.The cuffs soon joined her feet, the twisted metal she hadn't seen him touch clattering to the ground. She stared from her bruised wrists to the twisted metal to him and back before he spoke.

"Apologies, I know I should have just opened them but I couldn't abide them any longer," he said stepping back slightly as she rolled her shoulders. "I'll replace them when we get back. I remember how irritable the department got the last time I nicked yours."

"If we get back I'll take their irritation. Besides, I don’t think those were mine," she said smiling at him and wincing as it pulled on her bruised cheek. She reached over to gently probe the area only to stop as Lucifer's fingers ghosted the border of the bruise.

"I wish I could kill him for that," he muttered, fury and regret warning for dominance on his face. “I’d love to kill him for that. Slowly, painfully, let him beg for death before the end.” 

"I wouldn't complain," Chloe replied, feeling guilty for being willing to let Lucifer torture and kill him, _wanting_ Lucifer to torture and kill him. "He's so . . . evil. He killed those people and . . . and it didn't even . . . he's a sociopath and I almost married him. Do you think he would've," she trailed off, gesturing at her cheek.

"Only once, darling," Lucifer promised darkly. "I may not be able to kill a human but Maze has no such constraints."

"So even though you want to do it you can't, you know, kill him?"

"No," Lucifer sighed exasperated, "another of dear old Dad's bloody rules. Celestials can't kill humans. But there are fates far worse than death I can inflict."

"Variables on that condition," Chloe said darkly, thinking of their first case together where a grown man had been reduced to a nutjob in a padded cell. 

"Yes," Lucifer agreed uncomfortably, remembering the source of that phrase. "Let me see your arm," he commanded, changing the subject. "I can't help your cheek or your wrists but I can tend that."

"You need treatment more than I do," she retorted, "you're still bleeding and that right one is all . . . droopy. Besides, how many bullet holes do you have in you?"

"Precisely my point," he countered, "your wounds will take less time and should take priority. Besides, infection won't cart me off. I can wait."

"That's not how triage works, Lucifer," Chloe laughed grimly. "These won't kill me so I wait. Besides, if you bleed out, they have no reason to keep me alive. No witnesses, remember." He sighed but couldn't argue.

"I'm tired of sitting still and allowing myself to be hurt, Detective," he said finally, slumping to the ground with a huffy. "At the moment, despite the occasional throb or shooting pain if I move, it’s a mostly bearable ache. And I don’t know if you know this but fishing bullets _hurts._ Can't this wait?" She shook her head, wishing she could reward his honesty by allowing his desire.

"I'll be as gentle as I can," she offered, knowing that it would never be enough. There was no way to make what she was about to do gentle. It was going to hurt and she was going to have to do it many, many times. 

"Clearly you've never had a bullet removed," he scoffed, pulling out his flask and taking a drink. 

"May I?" she asked, reaching for it. He handed it to her without question. She took a gulp, amused to note that even his emergency booze was smoother than her good booze before pouring a bit onto the pliers and handling it back.

"Waste of good bourbon," Lucifer complained. "I can't get infections."

"Do you trust them not to have poisoned it?" She demanded. "Where do I start? I know basic first aid but I'm not an avian vet."

"And I'm not a bloody bird," he snapped, feathers bristling.

"Wings are wings, Lucifer, unless Devil wings have special anatomy."

"Archangel wings," he corrected softly. "Before I fell I was an archangel."

"Do they have special anatomy?" She asked. He shook his head. 

"Oversized bird wings," he confirmed." But _I_ am still not a bird. Since you're worried about bleeding, you'll need to pull any broken feathers, please. They heal faster if they're removed. " With a deep sigh he crossed his long legs, placing his head in his hands.

"Where do I start?" She repeated looking at the carnage before her. The wings were peppered with holes slowly oozing blood, scattered broken feathers littering the plumage. 

"Top of the right wing, near my shoulder, if you will," he answered her rhetorical question, folding his left to better open the right. "And mind the big long feathers. As I warned you and you’ve seen, razor-sharp, they are." She nodded and set to work. Of course, the first hole had broken feathers oozing a reddish shimmering liquid. Why not?

"Your blood can't hurt me, right?" She asked, thinking back to if he'd ever bled on her before. She wasn’t sure she could remember a time he had. Maybe the time she had shot him, which actually made more sense knowing that he truly thought she wouldn’t be able to do it. And she was sure he'd bled on her when they were transported but the shimmering liquid was just so odd she had to ask. She was shocked to hear him laugh. 

"No, Detective," he snickered. "It's blood, not acid."

"What about the reddish shimmering stuff? It's not acid, right?"

No, it . . . Rub it on your wrists," he said suddenly, sounding as if he had just remembered something important. She knew that he wouldn’t do anything to harm her but the idea of rubbing his blood on her skin was disturbing. Her silence must have spoken volumes because after a moment he said, "trust me." She did it, taking a single fingertip and dipping in in the shimmering stuff and rubbing in on her wrist. Seconds later, she was shocked to see liquid absorb into her skin and the bruise melt away. 

"Divine ichor. Miraculous stuff," he said as she gasped. "It'll heal anything, even mortal wounds. Put some on your cheek."

"Lucifer, I can't," she protested. "I won't take advantage of you like that," her words were cut off by his hand coating itself in the ichor and slathering it on her cheek. 

"It's not taking anything if I offered it to you, darling," he said, his dark eyes soft. "Besides, this,” his fingers stroked her no longer sore cheek, “ was my fault. Now, don't you have some feathers to pull?"

  
She nodded and situated the pliers around the first shaft. "I'm sorry," she muttered before placing her hand on his wing and pulling. It was surprisingly difficult to pull it out. It took some wiggling before it gave with a pop and slid from the hole welling ichor in its place. She quickly put her thumb over the hole to stanch the flow and turned her attention to the bullet hole. It was a ragged bleeding mess. With another apology, she opened the pliers and pushed them into the wound feeling him jerk when she touched the bullet. More apologies, more probing and she _eventually_ had one, ugly, mushroomed bullet in the palm of her hand. She quickly packed the bleeding wound with gauze. _One down, a couple hundred to go_ , she thought bitterly before turning to the next wound.

* * *

Dan was the first officer up the stairs. He had heard the gunshots from outside the building and paused at the door listening for any sound of movement on the other side. It was silent. Waiting for the next officer to reach the landing to go in together was torture. What if the delay meant that someone who could have been saved died. What if Chloe-- his mind viciously tamped down that idea. Nothing was going to happen to her, he wouldn't have to be the one to tell their daughter that mommy wasn't coming home. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, that felt like hours before the officer was there and Dan burst through the door, going low in case someone was still on the other side. He'd thought he was prepared for anything but he wasn't prepared for what he found. 

The rotunda was empty. There wasn't anyone living or dead in the space, just a circle of blood and what looked like broken feathers. Confusion mounting, he made a round of the place looking for anyone. There was no one. Just an ungodly amount of spent brass. What the hell had happened here? There was evidence of a firefight, he'd heard one from downstairs but there were no bodies and no large pools of blood. From the amount of casings littering the ground, he would have expected at least one. And worse yet, there was no sign of Chloe. 

"Espinoza," the other man, Ramirez, called. "I've got blood. Looks like a trail." Dan nodded, following Ramirez down the stairs on the other side from where they had come up. There were two distinct strings that very clearly made a trail. Whoever'd been injured was bleeding rather steadily but it didn't look like enough to kill a person. He took comfort in the fact that the amount of blood here looked survivable. His heart sunk to his toes when the trail lead to a loading dock. 

"I don't like this," Ramirez said shaking his head. "Call your ex." Dan nodded, thinking the same thing before dialing Chloe. His blood ran cold as he heard her phone ring. Looking down into the truck bay, he saw it lying on the ground, screen cracked and his picture visible. 

"Call it in," Dan whispered, not trusting his own voice. He didn't even hear as Ramirez called in the fact that his ex-wife and her crazy partner who thought he was the devil were missing. All he could hear was the rushing of his own blood in his ears as he wondered how he was going to tell their daughter that her mother wasn't coming home. 


	5. Uncomfortable Realizations

She wasn't sure how long they had been at it, but before she was through with half of his right wing her hand began to shake. The force required to pull not only the broken feathers but the bullets themselves was taking its toll. She had just finished one where a bullet had hit bone and switched the pliers to her left hand, hoping that she had the dexterity necessary for the job when he stopped her.

"Please, Detective," he said, his voice harsh and unsteady, "a brief respite after that last one." Despite knowing that they needed to be done sooner rather than later, she didn’t argue with him. Couldn’t argue with him, not when he so rarely asked for anything for himself. 

"I need a break too," she agreed, pocketing the pliers and moving to sit in front of him. She almost wished she hadn't. His face was pale, pinched and it looked like he was sweating. His eyes were closed and he was breathing through his nose, almost as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. 

"Lucifer, are you . .."she trailed off. Of course he wasn't okay but it wasn't like she could ask if he was-

"I'm not dying," he panted, sounding none too convincing. "But I don't know what's worse, the bullets stabbing me when I move or you fishing them out."

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I don't like it either but it has to be done. While they’re still in there you’re bleeding. How much blood and ichor can you lose before you . . . you. . ."

"Substantially more than I am," he said with a certainty that she almost found more uncomfortable than she would have speculation.

"If you're invulnerable away from me, how do you know for sure?" She asked, not wanting the answer and wondering if he would even give it.

"Celestials and hellforged blades can still harm me," he replied with a wan smile. " I bled _much_ worse than this when Maze cut off my wings." Chloe felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of nausea. Maze had cut off his wings. The nerve filled, flesh and bone appendages with connections as long as her forearm and as thick as her thigh. 

"How?" She breathed, horrified at what he must have gone through and that Maze had been able to do it. She'd seen what the small holes for the rivets had done to him, how could he have withstood her sawing through flesh, ligamets and tendons to remove them? And just how strong was Maze? Both physically to wrestle him and emotionally. She knew she said callous things, but inflicting such suffering on someone she cared about, how had she done it? She had to swallow down a wave of bile at the mental image of Maze drenched in his blood sitting on him, pulling the wing as she hacked at it with a knife.and Lucifer's next words didn't help.

"She took one of her knives and --"

"How did you stand it?" she clarified, cutting him off before he could give her graphic details. "They clearly have feeling. And she can't possibly be strong enough to have held you down and cut. How?"

"The same way I removed them myself when they grew back," he said darkly. "I hated them and what they represented. I _needed_ them gone and was willing to pay the price to accomplish that goal. Than and copious amounts of narcotics and alcohol." Her stomach constricted painfully as she realized he'd been through it not once but many times. 

"Do they always grow back?” she asked warily, not that she wanted to attempt to remove them or that they had the tools but she still had to know. “Would it be easier to remove them instead of pulling out each bullet?"

"No," he said wearily. "Not with you here and nothing to cauterize with. I _would_ lose too much blood then. And Cain hasn't been generous in the drugs department. Without them I don't think I could allow it to be done. Even with my refusal to see you injured by my hand. You'd get hurt and I'd likely bleed out. Otherwise I'd say let's do it, even if they didn't grow back. It not like I _want_ the blasted things anyway."

"How fast do you heal?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"Near you? About a third faster than you do," he said. "Away from you, _much_ more rapidly. Why do you ask?"

"Trying to figure out how long we can rest before we have to get back to it." It was his turn to look nauseous. "It has to be done," she reminded him. "The sooner we get back to it, the sooner it's done and the sooner you can rest." He nodded, swallowing heavily.

"May I lie down for a bit?" She nodded and he proceeded to lay on his left side, groaning low in his throat as the cable pulled against the grommets. He curled into a semi-fetal position around her before resting his right wing across her crossed legs.

"Is this acceptable?" He asked looking up at her, his expression begging her to say yes. 

"Are you more comfortable?" She asked. He nodded. "Then it's wonderful." She shifted her weight to reach the pliers, her knee jarring his wing. He jolted, curling into himself more tightly and pressing his forehead into her hip with a hiss. Unconsciously, she threaded her fingers into his hair to comfort him before they both froze. He was the first to move, pressing into the touch with a shuddering sigh.

"Is this okay, then?" She asked, moving her fingers to pet him. 

"Delightful," he replied. He loosed a small noise of protest when she stopped and she wondered when the last time anybody had touched him just for companionship had been. She made a point to stroke an uninjured portion of his wing, feeling some of his tension drain as she did. After a few moments she said, "ready?"

"No," he replied, "but do it." She nodded and pressed the pliers into the hole, removing the bullet with a precision she wished she hadn't developed. She stroked his feathers with her left hand while packing the wound with the right. Even once it was done she continued petting him. As he relaxed again, she decided a change in tactic from pull-as-many-as-fast-as-possible to offer-him-some-comfort-in-between was necessary.

She continued like that until the last bullet was removed from his right wing. Even then she didn't stop her petting, or occasional straightening of a crooked feather. 

"You know," she said softly. "I didn't expect them to be so soft. Or so white."

"So you expected me to have wings?" He asked, the ghost of a laugh in the words.

"Well, not _you_ but the idea of the Devil," she clarified knowing that it made no sense. "I figured that if he was real, his wings would be all . . ."

"Bat-like," Lucifer offered. "Complete with claws?"

"Mmhm," she agreed, petting idly along the small feathers near the top of the wing, surprised to not that the ones on the inside edge were softer still.. "I wouldn't've guessed soft, white, glowing feathers."

"Do you know what my name means?" she shook her head. "In Latin, it means 'light-bringer'. That was my job before the fall. I brought light. I lit the stars. Dad commanded it but I did it."

" _You_ lit the stars," she asked slowly, her fingers froze buried knuckle deep in his feathers. "All of them?" He nodded against her hip and suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room. Her partner, the hedonistic, childish person she regularly scolded lit the fucking stars. The _billions-_ of-years-old stars. He lit them. She thought back to all the times she'd irritated him, could he have smote her? Was that even the right verb? How was worrying about the right way to say smite as an actual action a real part of her life?

"Oh _God_ ," she breathed before remembering He was real too. "Oh fuck, I said God. He's not going to smite me, right?"

"Don't worry, Detective," Lucifer laughed. "Dad's more 'hands-off'. At the most he'll send Amenadiel or Michael. Maybe you should try some blasphemy. They might be willing to help us out of here. If only to protect you from my bad influence."

"Is that a joke," she asked, not feeling sure of anything since her entire worldview had been turned on it’s head.

"Yes, darling," Lucifer confirmed. "It's nearly impossible to get those feathery prats off their clouds. And Dad doesn't care all that much about blasphemy, not from his pet project. Bloody double standard."

"So do you, I mean, do you have horns and a tail?" she asked, changing the subject from whether or not she was about to be smitted and who could or would do it. At that, he did laugh, the first she had heard in quite some time. He propped up on an elbow with a grimace to look at her better.

"Oh, Detective, you've seen me naked," he laughed. "Did you see a tail?"

"Didn't see wings either," she countered. "Just . . . scars. I don't remember seeing any others. You don't have any others, do you? Why did it scar when you cut off your wings?"

"I don't have those anymore either," he said curtly, his expression closing off. "Speaking of wings, don't you have another one to go poking around in?" She wondered how painful that memory must be if he would rather she continue removing bullets than talk about it. 

"You'll either have to sit up or roll over," she sighed, hating the reminder that she wasn't done hurting him. 

"So now I'm a dog," he joked weakly, offering her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sit, roll over, get it?" 

"Sorry, I just . . . How is this happening, Lucifer? You're the _actual_ Devil, but . . . you're not evil. I mean, you're telling jokes to try to make me feel better about hurting you and I don't. . . I don't know what I'm doing. What we're doing. Pierce, he is evil and he's going to kill us eventually."

"No, he won't," Lucifer said, certainty in his voice. "I finally figured out why he changed his mind on killing us and decided on kidnapping instead. It's my wings. He didn't know that I still have them. Not until I used them to protect you."

"I don't think--"

"I've seen it before," he sighed. "Do you remember the drooling mess that was the auctioneer? How he damaged his brand and his bottom-line just to own the amputated version. Cain is just as awestruck, he's just handling it better because he already knew of the divine, having been cursed by Dear Old Dad himself. Actually, your reaction is the anomaly. Most humans lose themselves, at least for a time."

"If he already knew, then why is he awestruck?" She asked, ignoring the comment about her. "And why does he want them?"

"He wants to live forever," Lucifer said sadly. "The ichor that healed you flows through the feathers and imbues them with miraculous healing powers. So potent they can even stave off old age. With my feathers, he will never know death." As he spoke, a sinking feeling settled into her gut. 

“They can prevent death from any cause?” she asked, horror filling her as she realized something. 

“I just said that, Detective,” he said, his tone exasperated. "Do try to keep up."

“Can you turn them off?” she asked, praying the answer was yes. 

“Afraid not. Even if I were to pluck them all, they still work,” he said. “Why are you suddenly so interested? Contemplating immortality? I must say I like the idea of you living forever more than Cain . . . “

“Your threat earlier,” she asked, already knowing the answer, “if I were dead, you’d escape?”

“I can’t bring you back from the dead, Chloe,” Lucifer said, hoping that wasn’t what she was thinking. “Dead is dead and I can’t follow where you’re going.” 

“I’m not suicidal, Lucifer,” Chloe promised, worried at the concern she heard in his tone. “Would you escape and does he know that you would?” He nodded. “Could he use them to force me to stay alive?” Lucifer’s eyes widened as he realized what she had seen. “A literal eternity in a cage?”

“That won’t happen,” he said softly. “We’ll figure a way out of this. There is a loophole I can exploit somewhere.” She shook her head.

“Give me that left wing and we can plot while I work,” she said with a sigh, wishing he could just break his deals, just once. She was glad that he chose to sit, turning his back to her to grant her access to the wounds. As she pulled feathers and bullets, tears streamed down her face. Not for the carnage, or the way he couldn't quite hold that wing still, pulling away slightly when she found the bullet with the pliers. No, she cried for herself and the daughter there was a very real chance she would never see again and could be forced to outlive, who would never know what happened to her mother. And all for the greed of one man and his lust for the beautiful feathers attached to the Devil himself who was _disgustingly_ truthful and honest. Even with people who didn't deserve it. She almost hated him for that. Almost. But every flinch and soft sound of discomfort ate away at her ire. It wasn't fair to ask him to sacrifice his morals for her, not when he'd already proved willing to sacrifice his freedom, dignity and very life to buy her even a moment more. She wanted so badly to ask him why but couldn't bring herself to do it. 

* * *

"What do you mean there's no sign of them?" Dan demanded, pacing the sidewalk he'd been removed to as soon as it became clear it was a kidnapping case involving his ex-wife and her partner. "There has to be a sign."

"Other than the blood that we can't seem to type, there's nothing," Shannon said. "The building has no cameras. We're trying to see if there are traffic cameras we can use, but Pierce knew what he was doing."

"Do not praise him for successfully kidnapping the mother of my child, Dan hissed, grabbing Shannon by the collar. "You have to have missed something. Look again."

"What about Lucifer's phone," Ella offered, trying to break them up before Dan got himself in trouble. "We found hers but not his. He may still have it and if he does, then we can trace them."

"It's worth a shot," Shannon shrugged. "I'll contact the provider. Any idea who he's through?"

"No, but I have his number," Ella offered, ignoring Dan's unspoken question as to why she has Lucifer's number. If it got them back, she'd let him think whatever he wanted. There were much worse things they could think of her than that she was a notch in Lucifer's bedpost.


	6. Just Desserts and Odd Results

Lucifer listened as Chloe's breathing shuddered, knowing without seeing that she wept. He wanted to offer her comfort but what could he say? We'll get out of this? He wouldn't lie and as much as he said he'd find a loophole, he wasn't sure there was an easy one. They could be Cain's captives for some time. He could promise her that the spawn would be taken care of; Maze and Daniel would see to that. But the reminder of her offspring was only likely to upset her further. All he had to offer was himself and he doubted that would help either as it was his fault that they had been captured in the first place. With nothing to offer to relieve her suffering, he focused instead on the pain of the extractions. Rather than try to ignore it as he had been doing, he embraced it as his deserved punishment for poisoning everyone he cared for yet again. Each stab of pain, the cramp of forcing muscles to ignore their instinctive desires to pull away, they were deserved and he allowed them to wash over his body, embracing every quiver as justice served. 

Even when his body began begging him to request a reprieve, he swallowed the words. The pain was deserved and he would bear it until she needed to rest or completed her task. He tried to endure in silence, not wanting to punish her for his decisions and shortcomings but as she fought a bullet free from the bone of his wing's forearm he couldn't stop his cry as lightning shot up the nerve bowing him with the force of it. 

"Shit, shit, I'm sorry!" she muttered, petting his intact feathers, offering him comfort he didn't deserve. "I'm so sorry! Do you need a break?" He shook his head, knowing even that agony was less than he deserved, his mere presence having condemned her to Hell on earth with the Devil as her companion and Cain her warden.

"Continue, please," he gasped, his own voice nearly unrecognizable. She hesitated but then her hand was back and soon after, the pliers, gripping another feather and ripping it from its root. She was approaching the end of his wing, the end of his punishment but he knew he owned her far more. Especially since if he would have just shelved his pride and been willing to break a deal with evil incarnate he could have gotten them out of the truck. He didn't think he could do it. Not anymore. 

The cable felt too strong. Unlike the chain, he didn't think he could break this, even when his wings healed. He was afraid he would be there until he was freed this time. Or until he figured out how to cut off his wings. It was possible there was something in that warehouse that could stop the bleeding. And if not and he was dead they wouldn't need her. He rejected that idea instantly. Even were he dead and her usefulness ended, they wouldn't free her. She'd seen too much. No, any escape plan had to involve him and Chloe surviving and possibly Cain dead. There had to be a way, he just had to find it. Perhaps when his wings healed and he could think clearly a loophole would present itself. Or if she could develope a plan, maybe he could, just once break a deal. His mind rebelled against the thought almost as soon as it occurred but like silence broken by a sound, the echoes of the thought remained. Were he able to be free of the cable, could he break his word? He thought of her soft sobs and wondered if he could live with himself if he didn't try. Would she still care for him if he proved that he could lie and cheat if it benefited him enough? Would it be worth it anyway to know that she was free and happy? Even if that happiness didn't involve him?

He was shocked from his musings by gentle hands on his face, wiping tears he hadn't known had fallen. He pulled away on instinct before his gaze focused on the sad blue eyes of the Detective. Watching him carefully, her hand returned, brushing the tears from the other cheek. Despite himself, knowiong that he didn't deserve the comfort she offered, he leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, sounding as broken as he felt. "Sorry I had to do that to you."

"I deserved it," he replied without thinking. "It's not your fault. None of this is. I deserved that and more for trapping you here. If it weren't for me and these blasted wings, you wouldn't be here."

"You're right. If it weren't for you I'd be dead many times over," Chloe said, her voice hard and choked with an emotion he couldn't name. "If it weren't for your wings and your willingness to endure agony for my sake, I'd be dead now. You deserve many things, Lucifer, but being tortured by being shot and having the bullets removed without anesthesia is not one of them. Especially when . . . when it was all for . . . all for ." She began weeping as she continued and he did the only thing he could think of and pulled her into his chest where she clung to his shirt, leaving fingerprints of his own blood and wept. The heartbeat beneath her cheek so human that with her eyes closed she could almost pretend he didn't have giant wings. That they were just in her kitchen, that Trixie or Maze would come in and interrupt. The thought only made her cry harder, clinging to him like an anchor, wishing they would be interrupted by Maze snarling for them to get a room or share. She was never going to see any of them again. Eventually she calmed slightly, Lucifer petting her hair and allowing her to weep on a shirt that probably cost more than her weekly salary.

"I'd do it again," he whispered into her hair, eventually, unsure why she was weeping but needing to reassure her. Needing her to know that he didn't regret his decision so she would feel no guilt if the worst did happen. He couldn't bear it if in attempting to save her life he condemned her to Hell, especially since he had an idea of what her hell-loop would be. 

"I'd do it a hundred times over," he promised. "As dark as this looks, darling, we're both still alive and mostly unscathed. There's still a chance of this working out."

"I just. . . I just want to see Trixie again," she said softly, tears choking the words, her sobs coming harder. "I don't want her to . . . She needs me. Alive. I lost my dad, I can't. . . I can't put her through that."

"I know, darling," he replied, holding her tighter and resting his chin on her head. "I know. And I'll do everything I can to make that happen, Detective. You have my word." She nodded mutely, tightening her own grip as she continued to cry. Eventually, her sobs faded to sniffles and then her breathing evened out and her grip went lax. Needing to rest himself, Lucifer folded his wings against his back, glad Cain had only stopped them from fully opening, and lay down on his side, positioning the Detective against his chest with his arm for a pillow. After a moment's consideration, he tested the range of motion of the right wing and wrapped it around them like a blanket. With a sigh, he drifted to sleep with the smell of tears and roses and blood in his nose.

* * *

"They won't help us?!" Dan snapped at the poor rookie who had been sent from the tech department to bring him the news. "Did you tell them that it's a fucking kidnapping? It's already been more than a day. Did you tell them that he could die if they don't?"

"Apparently, Mr. Morningstar pays them extra to ensure that he is untraceable and they are unwilling to go against his wishes for less than a court order. And then implied that it will involve extensive backlogging."

"Of course the dick does," Dan sighed, rubbing his face. What the fuck did he need to be so off the grid for? They'd already established that a vengeful ex was unlikely and if, like he claimed, his dad was God, it wasn't like he traced cellphones. "I'll go get us a warrant."

"Not you," an older man with grey hair in a suit Dan had never met before said walking across the precinct. "You're off the case, Espinoza."

"And you are?" Dan demanded, dislinking the man already for the way he acted like he owned the place when he didn't even work there. 

"Agent Anders, FBI. We'll be taking over from here," he said simply.

"But … the life of my ex-wife, my child's mother rides on this," Dan protested. "And Pierce, he killed … he killed my … he killed Charlotte."

"All the more reason for you to be off this case," Anders said gently, placing his hand on Dan's shoulder. "We need objective people to track down the Sinnerman, Pierce. He's smart and slippery and ruthless. Any rash action and both of them and others could end up dead. As emotionally invested in this as you are, you might get them killed. We'll take whatever you have and work the case ourselves." Dan shook his head but found he couldn't argue Anders' logic.

"Just bring them home," Dan said, handing Anders his file and walking away. Anders watched him leave before turning to Ella, who he noticed was attempting to leave with the file she had brought.

"Ms. Lopez, a word," he said. He watched her freeze and her shoulders hunch a second before she turned around looking at him sheepishly.

"Hi," she said with an awkward grin. "I bet you're wondering why I was leaving with this file when you just said you wanted everything we have, right?" He said nothing and she shifted uncomfortably before continuing. "It's just that these results don't make any sense. And while I was willing to show them to Dan, the FBI is a totally different thing. I'm just going to go and run them again until they make sense, ok?"

"Show me the file," Anders instructed, looking at her in a way that made her think he was testing her. "Tell me what's off. Maybe I can help you make sense of them. I am a bit of an expert in things that don't make sense." She hesitated, but his body language and demeanor made her think that he wasn't going to accept no for an answer and that if she tried to give it she might end up fired.

"Well," she began setting the file on the table. "There were two types of blood at the crime scene. The first was easy but the second … no mater matter what I ran it against or how many times I tried, it won't type. The cell morphology is just wrong and isn't a known genetic variant. At first, I thought it was contaminated by something on the floor, but none of the samples from the blood trail will type and they all have the odd cells."

"So what does that suggest?" Anders asked softly, wondering if she could break the barrier or if she would refuse the truth starring her in the face like so many others. The fact that she had checked her results and was entertaining the idea that there was an alternative other than being contaminated made him hopeful. 

"That the sample is not human," Ella said, shaking her head. "I trust my methods and there were more than enough samples to test that all came out the same but … they didn't match any known animal group's morphology either. And I even checked the crustaceans. Cause, you know, they have that odd blue blood thing going for them."

"What else was odd, Ms. Lopez?" Anders asked softly.

"The feather samples," she said. "They don't match any known species either. They've got an odd bioluminescence to them even under normal light conditions. And, they're huge. The animal they came off of would have to have at least a fifteen or twenty-foot wingspan to accommodate them. Nothing has a wingspan that big. The albatross only has a twelve-foot wingspan and that is not an albatross feather."

"So what does that mean, Ms. Lopez?"

"Either the data is wrong," she said seriously, "or we're looking at a new species. Maybe ... maybe winged hominids."

"Winged hominids," he said slowly, pleased that she was able to come that far. "Do you mean like an angel, or at least a fallen one?"

"Don't tell me that you buy that mierda Lucifer is selling about being _the_ Lucifer," Ella scoffed.

"Well, Ms. Lopez," Anders replied, looking at her levely. "What does the evidence tell you? Feathers and blood of an unknown origin, countless bullets missing with no body to account for them and your Detective and her consultant who claims to be the Devil have an absolutely unprecedented solve rate with more than one guilty person ending up a drooling imbecile. Are you sure it is shit he's selling?" Ella looked at him with a perplexed expression but said nothing for a moment. 

"I-I'm gonna go rerun the blood one more time," she said before walking from the room at a pace that suggested she was fleeing. Anders watched her go with a sigh. He was so sure that she was going to be one of the ones who could break through on their own. As she looked back over her shoulder at him, he wondered if she still might be. 


	7. A Breakthrough and  Move

Apparently a request from the FBI carried more weight than the LAPD. Less than an hour after Agent Anders had taken over the case, the company had agreed to trace the phone and given them a GPS location. Ella was in the lab, running the specimen for what felt like the thousandth time when he came through the door. 

"Lopez, you're with me," Anders said not fully entering the room before walking out the door again. "We've got a location. Gear up." She dropped what she was doing grabbing her field kit and following him out the door.

"Why me?" She asked as she trailed him through the precinct. "I'm pretty sure that the FBI has their own lab techs that are probably better than I am. Especially since I can't even seem to analyze a blood sample today. Heck, we have other techs that can probably analyze a sample. Why me?"

"My people aren't here yet. We need to move if we want to stand a chance. Pierce still has people in this precinct and already knows we're trying to trace the phone," Anders listed. "Hopefully he doesn't know that we've succeded. Besides, you are familiar with both of them and can identify them if necessary."

"Do you … I won't ... you don't think I'll be needed for that, will I," she asked, hating to be the one that identified Lucifer and Chloe's bodies. Not that she wanted to imagine them dead or injured but in either case to be in bad enough shape to require identification ... yeah, she didn't want to think of that.

"Hopefully not but load up," Anders said, opening the passenger side of an SUV and waiting for her to get in before closing it behind her. Knowing what he'd seen and heard about Lucifer, he sincerely doubted body identification would be necessary but it was a reason she would buy and he had no doubt that they would find something supernatural. Maybe it would be enough to nudge her over the edge into reality.

* * *

Chloe awoke sometime later wondering just what the hell had happened. She wasn't sure why she had fallen asleep on the ground, but the cool floor beneath her and the ache in her hip assured her she had. There was something warm beneath her cheek and something light and downy touching her arm. She opened her eyes at the realization that the warm thing was an arm and found herself staring into Lucifer's sleeping face. He looked younger asleep. Innocent even. She smiled fondly at him trying to remember just how the two of them had ended up asleep together on the floor, moving to check that she was still clothed, especially in light of the odd dream she'd had. She moved to push back the blanket only to see that it wasn't a blanket but a giant feathered wing attached to a cable. She couldn't stop her curse as the reality of her situation came crashing back down. 

Lucifer was awake instantly, shifting into a half-crouch, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor as his eyes roamed the area for danger. As soon as he was awake an inhuman growl she could almost feel more than hear rose from his chest and a sense of warning radiated from him in waves. She had the primal urge to run but she could barely draw breath and then his dark eyes landed on her. His expression softened instantly, the growl stopping and the aura of menace shattering like it had never been. 

"Detective," he said, offering her a small smile, as though they were anywhere but trapped by a murderous man who had strung him up like a trophy. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I was ... startled." She nodded, swallowing heavily and willing her heart to slow down. She wanted to tell him that it was ok but knew he'd hear the lie so settled instead on moving past it. 

"Hi," she responded, trying to mimic his smile and feeling it fall flat. "How are you?"

"Hurting," he answered honestly. _Always the truth, Detective_ echoed in her mind. "You?"

"Terrified," she replied, deciding to match his honesty. She regretted it instantly as his face fell. He backed away slightly curling in on himself as though trying to make his large body smaller. Even his feathers flattened as his wings retreated against his back. 

"I'd never hurt you, Detective," he said, his voice sad and small at the same time, his eyes staring at her knee unable to bear her disbelief. "I want you to know that. I _swear_ I would never hurt you on purpose."

"Not of you, Lucifer," she clarified, unable to hide her irritation that they were back to this. "Even though that was ... I don't have the right words for how that felt. But I meant this, all of it, Pierce . . . Cain, he could decide at any moment that we're too much trouble and kill us."

"He won't--" Lucifer started, eyes glowing as they snapped up to meet her gaze only to trail off as she shook her head sadly.

"You can't stop him if you're dead, and you already told me you can't kill him," she sighed. "That doesn't leave us many options. I can't exactly take a bullet and survive."

"You can if I can get a feather to you," he offered, shooting her a shy smile and beginning to relax, his feathers fluffing a bit as his shoulders lost some of their tension. "But I'd much prefer you not get shot." She couldn't help but laugh.

"I'd rather avoid it too," she said when she could. "I'd also like it if you could avoid getting shot again."

"Mutual goal, I assure you. Bloody painful experience. So, what is our plan? Did any epiphany come to you in your dreams?" She shook her head, sighing. 

"Do you think you can, you know, break out of the cable?" She asked, looking around for options. Lucifer shook his head. 

“The cable’s stronger than the chain was,” he said wearily. “The chain was also around my wings and wrists. This is through them. I can’t get any leverage to pull against it without tearing my flesh. I don’t think I can break free and I would rather not attempt it, not if there is another way.” She felt her stomach churn at how casually he discussed harming himself and how he didn’t refuse to do it but said he would rather not. It was her turn to shake her head.

“No, Lucifer,” she replied. “Don’t try it. There has to be another way. And until we figure out how to get out of the cage there’s no need anyway. So how do we get out of the cage? I know it can't hold you, but Cain told you to stay here, is there a loophole you can use?” A smug look crossed his face but before he could reply a different voice interjected.

“If you don’t stop scheming I’ll have to seperate you,” came Pierce’s bored voice. They glanced up to see him leaning casually against the fence of their cell by the door. Lucifer growled at him, that same feral sound that raised the hairs on her neck ut this time it had a target. With it directed away, she was still able to breathe, and Chloe couldn’t resist the urge to glare at her ex. “I have to keep you both, but I don’t have to keep you both together.” Chloe couldn’t silence her squeak of surprise as she felt herself pulled against Lucifer, his arm crossing her chest posessively as he continued to stare at Pierce.

“My continued docility requires continual assurance of her wellbeing,” Lucifer said, his words liquid malice. “Seperate us and find out if your cable and cage can really contain the Devil. And I’ll find out if mortality is a possibility for you.”

“We both know you can’t kill me, Lucifer,” Pierce said, rolling his eyes. “Archangels can’t kill humans, and whatever you claim to be, those pearly white things sprouting from your back tell me you are still an archangel. And you just said that my cable will hold. Empty threats don’t become you.” 

“They’re not empty,” he countered. “You may be human, Cain, but you are damned as surely as I am. My greatest sin was pride, yours . . . well, fratracide and the first murder rolled into one. Dad is unlikely to forgive that. Humans are His favorite toys, after all.” Neither of them said anything further, waiting for the other to break the silence first. In the end it was Chloe who spoke. 

“What do you want, Marcus?” she sighed, leaning against Lucifer when it became clear he had no intention of releasing her. “If you’ve only come to gloat, then yes, we’re still you prisoners. Yes, we’re still miserable. No, we don’t have a plan to escape. Now go away.” 

“Actually, I came to tell you we’re letting you out of the cage,” he said with a shrug.

“Fuck you, Marcus,” she said wearily. “I don’t have time for your sarcasm.” Lucifer snorted at that and only just restrained himself from reminding her that they had nothing but time. 

“It’s not sarcasm,” he said nodding to someone behind them. With a groan, the wench Lucifer’s cable was attached to came to life and began reeling up the slack. Lucifer scrambled backwards, releasing Chloe and scattering bullets in an attempt to keep up with the cable and prevent it from pulling on the eyelets in his wings. His eyes went wide as his back hit the cage and the wench kept going, his wings folding on instinct to allow a bit more cable out. He opened his mouth in preparation to protest when Cain nodded and the wench was shut off. 

“So, here’s how this is going to work,” Pierce said slowly. "I tell you what to do, and you do it. No sass, no questions or we test if the cable and wire is stronger than Lucifer's flesh. The first thing that is going to happen is this; Decker, you're going to walk over to Lucifer and empty his pockets. I'm especially interested in his cellphone."

"You still have your cellphone, Lucifer?" She hissed, walking to his side and starting to go through his pockets.

"What good would it have done us?" he demanded, tone a bit shorter than it would normally have been due to his discomfort and irritation at his inability to change his situation. "It's not like we know where we are to call for help, Detective."

"They could have traced the call, Lucifer," she sighed as she removed his keys, flask, _three_ cellphones and countless condoms from his pockets refusing to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Chloe," he whispered, unable to look at her either. "I didn't know."

"Cops do it all the time, Lucifer," she sighed, checking his suit jacket for internal or hidden pockets, not wanting Cain to find something she missed and take it out on Lucifer.

"I'm not a cop, Detective," he reminded her, his tone remaining repentant. "I'm just a consultant and I don't always know or care to follow protocol, if you recall."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just," Chloe started only to be cut off by Cain.

"That's enough. His pockets are empty. I'm going to open this door. Decker, you are going to come to me and bring me his things. And you’ll do it calmly and quietly or I turn that wench back on and we see just how much force it takes to rip his wings off. Do you understand?” Chloe nodded, shocked again by just how cold Marcus could be. Never could she have imagined he could witness, let alone order someone to be dismembered without batting an eye. But she didn’t doubt that he would do that to Lucifer if she stepped out of line. 

“Good,” he said, unlocking the door and stepping into the cage. She gathered Lucifer's things from the floor, rose and went to stand beside Cain. “Hands behind your back, Decker.” Again she nodded, turning and placing her wrists together behind her back. She flinched slightly as the handcuffs ratcheted closed around her wrists and jumped outright when manicles were fastened to both of her ankles and connected to the handcuffs. She swallowed hard trying to contain her anxiety at being rendered helpless. She twitched away as Pierce stroked her cheek, tracing the bruise that was no longer there.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you not to do something stupid, won’t you, Decker?” he whispered as he began searching her pockets himself. She just glared, taking a deep breath in through her nose and biting her cheek. She held no illusions that he wouldn’t hit her if she lipped off. She didn't miss his smirk at her silence before his attention shifted.

“Now, Lucifer,” he said, turning his attention to the Devil, “you’re next. Same rules from before apply now; any injury you deal to me or mine the Detective will experience. Do you understand?” Lucifer nodded, his eyes burning. “Good. Now, we’re going to move those clamps to keep your wings closed. When that’s done, we’re going to cut the cable and you will walk peacefully out the door and into the waiting truck. Do you understand?” 

“I do,” Lucifer snarled. At Cain’s nod, the grating sound of metal-on-metal rang out as both of the clamps were moved and the cable was cut ten feet from the wing tips. Lucifer stumbled slightly as he attempted to regain his footing at the loss of the pull from the cable. 

“Release her,” he ordered, jerking his chin towards Cain who was holding the chain between Chloe’s hands and feet like a leash. 

“You’re in no position to make demands, Lucifer, “ Cain replied. “I keep her until you get in the truck without incident. Only then will she join you.” With a snarl, Lucifer stalked forward, rage radiating from him like a shockwave. Chloe smiled at the idea that they looked like trainers attempting to move a big cat and not get eaten. Her smile faltered as she realized that was exactly what she was witnessing. Without her to protect, he could and would destroy or maim them all to escape. Without her he would never have been caught. And without him she'd be dead. He somehow even managed to look graceful and perturbed as he climbed into the back of the cargo van. She grimaced as she realized she would be lucky not to fall on her face. Thankfully it only came to mid-shin. It wouldn't be graceful and it was more than degrading, but she could crawl in on her knees. As she moved forward, there was a slight tug on her chain. 

"Not there, Decker," Cain said. "You're in the cab with me. 

"You said she'd join me," Lucifer argued. "That was part of the deal."

"She'll be in the same vehicle, just in a different compartment," Cain replied with a shrug. "Besides, everyone knows the cab is safer than the cargo compartment. It wouldn't do to have her dying if we were in a crash, would it?" Lucifer glared but knew there was nothing he could do to change the situation. Instead, he watched with trepidation as she was led out of his line of sight. He heard her protest as she was lifted into the cab and forced to scoot to the middle of the bench seat between Cain and the nondescript man driving the van. His one consolation was that there was wire mesh between them instead of sheet metal. 

"Are you alright, Detective," he asked when her breathing didn't even out after a couple of minutes.

"I'm fine," she said, trying and failing to swallow down her panic at being stuck between them helpless. At their complete and absolute mercy, which they'd already proved to be severely lacking. But it wouldn't do to say any of that out loud. She only hoped he wouldn't notice that--

"You're lying," Lucifer said softly. "I can hear your heartbeat. You're not being harmed, are you?"

"Just uncomfortable," she promised. _And frightened, God, Lucifer, what are they going to do to us,_ she added mentally wishing there was some way to tell him and not Marcus. Lucifer did hear, the force of the panic in her prayer stealing his own breath and causing his heart to race. He hoped his Dad got CC'd in it and saw just what His curse was doing to His miracle. He wanted to tell her that it would be okay and that she needn't be afraid but he wouldn't lie to her and she had every reason to be afraid. 


	8. Uncomfortable Rides and New Terms

The ride was both long and secluded and Anders wasn't the best company. Ella found herself wishing that she had told him that she wouldn't go with him about the fifth time he brought up her faith and the supernatural. She was beginning to wonder if the man actually _was_ FBI, suit, badge and shiny black SUV aside. Had she actually gotten in the car with a serial killer? Or worse, one of Pierce's guys. And _man_ was he obsessed with Lucifer. Like unhealthy level obsessed. When he'd deflected her more subtle attempts at figuring out his hang-up, Ella decided that the direct approach was best.

"So, just out of curiosity, are you the _fun_ kind of crazy or the you're actually bringing me out into the woods to kill me kind of crazy?" She asked cutting off yet another question of if she'd noticed any odd goings on around Lucifer or his family. 

"Neither," Anders replied. "And you're not crazy either. All the things you think you've seen since the car crash, they were real too."

"I haven't seen anything," she replied, refusing to admit anything to him. He had an ulterior motive she just didn't know what it was. Maybe he was there to get her committed.

"Uh huh," Anders snorted. "And Lucifer is just some method actor who owns a nightclub, moonlighting for the LAPD while working for a part no one knows anything about."

"Why are you so hung up on him?" Ella asked, turning to face him. "He's just a guy. If it's about sex, I think you are probably out of luck. He and Chloe … they seem to have finally … you could still ask. It's not like I know what their arrangement is but …"

"I'm not interested in him for sex," Anders said sparing her a horrified glance before turning back to the road.

"Have you actually _met_ the guy," she asked, amused by the first normal response she'd received. "Dude practically _oozes_ sex appeal. I'll bet you a hundred dollars that after you meet him you'll want to sleep with him."

"I'm straight," he replied.

"Won't matter," she laughed. "Dan hates him for taking Chloe and sometimes even he looks at him in a way that makes me think he wants to--" Anders cleared his throat uncomfortably before cutting her off with a question.

"So have the two of you …"

"Uh, no," Ella replied. "Not that I wouldn't, cause I _totally_ would but my tribemate has dibs and I'm only interested in a shallow, it would be amazballs, kinda way. Not like her." Anders nodded but still seemed like he didn't get it. "Just wait. When we find them you'll see what I mean." Anders shook his head fondly. There was no way that knowing what he knew about Lucifer he would find him attractive. 

* * *

Eventually, Chloe's panic burned itself out. She was no more comfortable than she was but you just couldn't maintain that level of panic. At first, she had tried to focus on the route but gave up. She didn't know where they had started and it would do her no good to be able to get back to the warehouse, but that gave her nothing to think about aside from the feeling of Marcus' thigh along hers and how not that long ago she would have found it comforting. She tried to focus instead on the ache in her shoulders, the bite of the cuffs on her wrist and the way they dug into her spine, Lucifer's even breathing where he had scooted against the grating at her back. Even the hunger gnawing at her belly was better than thinking that she was sitting next to the man she had thought she had known and was going to spend her life with who she had actually known nothing about who had taken her prisoner. She leaned her head back against the grate, wishing again that they had just put her in the cargo hold.

* * *

Ella jumped slightly when the SUV stopped, having been daydreaming and ignoring Anders rambling. They were near an industrial complex in the middle of nowhere. Odd place for something like that. As far as she knew, industrial complexes were rarely placed in the middle of nowhere. 

"This is it?" She asked looking at it doubtfully. The building didn't scream evil lair. It didn't look sinister at all. Or even suspicious if the isolation of it was ignored.

"Well, it's not exact but cellphone GPS rarely are," Anders said with a shrug, moving to get out of the vehicle. 

"Um, dude, aren't we supposed to wait for backup? Like a SWAT team or something? What if they are in there? There's like three of you guys. I'm a tech, not a cop," she reminded him nervously. 

"They're not there," he said with certainty. "The door is wide open and there is no sign of movement. If this was where they were being held, they've been moved."

"So we're going in for … clues, evidence and hoping Pierce didn't rig the whole place to blow," Ella said slowly, hoping that he would deny that the final part was a possibility. He disappointed her.

"Precisely," Anders nodded. "Out you get." Ella nodded, sending a quiet prayer to God, before remembering she was mad at Him, and walked into the warehouse behind Agent Anders. Inside was a standard looking industrial warehouse except for the large cage complete with two pools of blood and littered with bullets. On the floor next to the cage were three cellphones and various other things that, when combined with the silver flask she had seen in more than one inappropriate location, told her Lucifer and Chloe had been there. 

"Dios mio," Ella breathed, feel the urge to vomit. "I … I have to …"

"Collect samples," Anders said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's why you're here and it's possible that those aren't theirs. And more than likely not if even half of what I've heard about either of them is true." She looked at him like he was a bastard, and maybe he was, but he highly doubted that either of the two pools of blood represented Lucifer Morningstar or Chloe Decker. 

Ella looked like she wanted to protest but tamped it down and moved toward the cage with a straight back and a quivering lip. As she processed the scene and began collecting samples and bagging evidence, _God_ were there a lot of bullets to bag, she realized he was probably right. The large pools of blood were at opposite ends of the cage. Chloe and Lucifer would have been together since there was no sign of restraints and if Pierce had wanted to just kill them, he would have done it at the first site. No, something else was going on here. In the middle of the cage, small drops of blood formed a semicircular pattern near where most of the bullets were. There, too, were what looked like quills to feathers, some of them nearly as large as her little finger. There were clear tool marks on some of them streaked in blood, almost as if someone had pulled them with pliers covered in blood. She collected samples of the blood and the quills to study wondering if it would match the mystery samples before tamping it down. _Yeah right, Ella,_ she thought. _Either Lucifer or Chloe is a different species with weird blood and giant glowing wings that got shot full of bullets for the other to pick out. Because that makes sense._ She knew there had to be another, logical explanation. Malfunctioning equipment, something. After all, when you hear hoofbeats you don't think it's zebras. 

_Unless you live in Africa,_ whispered a voice that sounded a lot like RaeRae. _and when you've eliminated the impossible whatever remains no matter how improbable is the answer. Or something like that. But if a hominid with giant glowing wings is the only explanation then roll with it._

"What do you think?" Agent Anders asked, rejoining her and straightening his jacket. She looked up from the mangled handcuffs she was dusting for prints and sighed.

"That I need to test the blood, but maybe… maybe my winged hominids theory isn't quite as crazy as I'd thought," she said, hoping she wasn't about to earn herself a padded cell. She was shocked when he smiled broadly at her and nodded in approval, his grey eyes crinkling with delight.

"Then let's get you back to your lab."

* * *

Chloe hissed as the handcuffs dug into her spine again as the van jolted along a couple of ruts in the woods trying to call themselves a road. They'd been at this for quite some time and she was ready for them to be wherever they were going, regardless of the outcome. Lucifer had clearly had enough of it as well and had begun criticizing the driver's skills with each bump. And then the woods cleared out and they stopped. No sooner had the van stopped than Pierce was out the door and pulling her arm to get her to follow. Outside, things didn't look better. There were no structures as far as she could see. No reason to be in this secluded, remote field. She had the sudden realization that she was about to die. 

"I'm so sorry, Lucifer, " she said as fear fluttered in her throat. Choking her and making air a precious commodity. "I should have told you a hundred times before but I l--"

"Enough, Decker," Cain sneered. "I don't need to hear heartfelt confessions. We didn't bring you out here to kill you. That would be a waste of resources. If I wanted you dead, you'd both be dead."

"Then why are we here?" Lucifer demanded, shouldering his way closer to Cain and the Detective. 

"Survival bunker," Cain replied lifting his chin towards a slightly triangular hill. "Your new home. Devils first." Lucifer rolled his eyes but crested the hill seeing an open door with steps descending into the darkness. At Cain's grunt, he began the descent down the steep, narrow stairs. Part of him wanted to gather up the tails of cable dragging behind him so no one accidentally, or on purpose, stepped on them and caused him pain, but he also wanted them to keep their distance and the risk of falling coupled with the risk of what he might do seemed to be doing the trick.

Chloe wasn't quite so confident. Her steps faltered at the top of the dark tunnel knowing in her gut that if she went in she would never come out. And then Marcus' hand closed around her bicep dragging her into the tunnel. She wanted to pull away but didn't have the leverage. As much as his touch disgusted her, as Chloe fought to keep her balance on the steep steps without the use of her hands, she was actually thankful for the hand gripping her upper arm.

After far too long, the stairs leveled out into a corridor. They continued walking to a heavy steel door that put her in mind of a bank vault. The plain man with brown hair walking ahead with Lucifer opened it and gestured them in. Lucifer scoffed, sneering at the man before walking past him. 

"That's far enough, Lucifer," Cain snapped. Lucifer ignored him, sauntering into the room like he owned the place rather than being held there against his will. "I said stop," Cain repeated. Lucifer continued to ignore him, exploring the new space. With a put-upon sigh, the man at the door stepped on the cable dragging behind the Devil, pulling him to an abrupt halt with a short, sharp sound of surprise. Before any of them could blink, Lucifer was there fury burning in his expression holding the man aloft by his throat.

"You dare to pull me short like a recalcitrant dog," he breathed, the statement more menacing for the calm in it. "I have allowed you many liberties but this I will not permit. Why shouldn't I kill you?"

"Because I'll kill her," Cain added, drawing Lucifer's attention back to himself and Chloe, who was currently struggling ineffectively against his hand around her throat, unable to free herself with her hands cuffed behind her back. "Let him go, Lucifer." He hesitated, calculating his odds of incapacitating both Cain and that man and being able to rescue the Detective. Cain tightened his grip and Chloe's struggles started to still. With a disgusted sound in his throat, Lucifer released the man, allowing him to fall to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. Cain, however, kept his hold. He could see the panic in her eyes and knew he wasn't fast enough to save her but that he had to try. Before he could reach them, Cain released his hold on her neck and her body, allowing her to crumple.

Lucifer caught her before she hit the floor cradling her limp body to his chest, on the verge of praying when she drew one gasping breath. It came back out with a wheeze that became a cough before she pulled in another. And another. Great gulps of air that sounded like sobs. He rested his cheek on her head in relief, clutching her heaving chest to him before glaring up at Cain.

"You almost killed her," he snarled.

"But I didn't," Cain shrugged. "You almost strangled my man."

"I let go," Lucifer countered, each word punctuated and radiating wrath.

"You hesitated," Cain replied. "You thought about not letting go and attacking me. That's not allowed, Lucifer. Further aggression towards us will not be tolerated. I say jump, you say how high and you do it. No looking for loopholes to exploit, just obedience. Have I made myself clear?"

"Demanding blind obedience didn't work for God," Lucifer asked coldly. "What makes you think that it will work for you?" 

"I've got better leverage," Cain replied with a shrug. "Last time all you had to lose was yourself. Stakes are a bit higher this time." He looked pointedly at Chloe. 

"You know that you don't have to do this, right?" Lucifer asked, subconsciously holding the Detective a bit more tightly. "We can make a new deal. I'll let you live in peace and you can have as many feathers as you want as often as you want them. And then you can let us go."

"It's not enough," Cain said. Lucifer laughed humorlessly. 

"You _are_ awestruck aren't you," he groaned. "Having access isn't enough, you need to possess them, don't you? Is that what you desire, Cain?" 

"Your trick doesn't work on me, Lucifer," Cain replied, rolling his eyes. 

"Too bad my bloody wings do," Lucifer muttered. "Get me a cautery and you can have the damn things."

"Do the feathers grow back when they're cut from the source?" Lucifer's face fell. "I thought not. Turn around." Lucifer's jaw worked but he did as commanded, holding the now weeping Detective as though she weighed no more than a child. 

"Go just through the door and stop. I'm going to loosen the clamps and I want you to spread your wings until they extend just past the frame." 

"You do know that even if you lock them open, which would be mighty difficult to manage, I can just turn sideways to fit through, do you not?" Lucifer asked as he did as he was told. 

"Shut up, Lucifer," Cain sighed. "It was a size gauge, not a physical barrier. That's about all the more wingspan I want you to have."

"Doubtful," he scoffed. He opened his mouth to continue expressing his doubts on Cain's logic but stopped when he saw Chloe's eyes. Even without words, he could tell she was asking him not to antagonize their captors. He nodded his understanding and stood silent while they manipulated the cables and clamps on his wings. He only offered protest again when he heard a torch light. 

"Hold still," the man he'd tried to strangle croaked. "As much as I'd like it to be, this ain't for you."

"And here I'd thought you lot were going to get interesting," Lucifer intoned, trying to radiate boredom when he was actually a bit concerned about what exactly they had planned with that blowtorch. 

"Just melting the bolts in case you get any bright ideas," the man snarled, bringing the torch to the clamps at an angle that did bring the heat uncomfortably close to Lucifer's back. 

It wasn't until the torch was extinguished that he commented, "I'm sure that any ideas I have will undoubtedly be _bright_ to you." He hissed as the man pulled roughly on the cable.

"I wouldn't make Levi any more of your enemy than he already is," Cain commented. "His family was rather religious. As such, he has no qualms harming the Devil."

"Or his whore," Levi added with a smirk, trying to get a rise from Lucifer. Other than a ruffle of feathers he gave no indication that he had heard Levi"s comment. 

"And he'll be your warden in my stead. After all, running a multinational criminal organization takes time," Cain said. "He will control every aspect of your lives. I suggest you play nice. And just in case you get any ideas about escape, the stairs are boobytrapped. The walls of the bunker are three-foot reinforced concrete and you know how far down we are. I suggest you be good and enjoy our hospitality. If you behave, there will be no need for us to harm either of you. We might even be willing to get you satellite down the road." With no warning, his hand shot out and closed around two feathers ripping them from their places. "Just in case. Goodbye for now. Lock them in."

"Gladly," Levi said before closing the door and locking it with a quiet click.


	9. Truths, Discovered and Disclosed

Back at the lab, Ella was analyzing the samples. PCR had determined that one pool was male and the other was female. The female of the large pools of blood wasn't a match for Chloe's blood type. She couldn't check the male pool against Lucifer's because they didn't seem to have his on record. Or his fingerprints. Or anything really. It was odd. Policy required that all people associated with the department have those basic things on file. Somehow Lucifer had gotten around the rule. She'd known he was good at convincing people to do what he wanted but it was still odd.

Odder still were the semicircle's blood samples and the odd substance in the feather shafts and the feather shafts themselves. The shafts were a visual match to the ones found at the first scene. As were the blood samples. Same type defying odd morphology as the first scene. Odder still, electrophoresis was giving them twenty-six pairs of chromosomes. Humans had twenty-three birds at least thirty. Everything was pointing to a new species. Especially the remnants of what looked like liquid glitter within some of the shafts. None of her instruments would give any readings on it. It either overloaded them or they acted like it wasn't there. Frustrating was an understatement. 

"What do you have for me, Ms. Lopez?" Anders asked, causing her to jump. She glanced up to see him leaning casually against her lab table looking like a cat that ate a canary. 

"We need to put a bell on you," she sighed, righting the beaker she'd knocked over, thankful that it had been empty. "And _nada_. At least nothing that's going to help find them. On the positive side, none of the blood is Chloe's. I don't know if any of it is Lucifer's because _apparently_ he charmed someone into letting him skip that. We also don't have his fingerprints on file. How he got out of that, I'll never know. I do know that the blood at the scene was from three sources; one man, one woman . . and one cryptid."

"Cryptid?"

"Yeah," she said, drawing the word out. "I'm ready to go out on that limb. Whatever or whoever left the blood and the feathers is not a known species. The chromosomes aren't right the cells aren't right. None of it is right."

"However, you, Ms. Lopez, are," Anders said simply, beaming like a proud parent before pushing off her table and heading for the door. "Come with me, there's something I need to show you."

* * *

As soon as he heard the door latch and ensured that they were alone, Lucifer moved and laid Chloe on the bed as gently as he could. He wasn't surprised when she curled up on her side with her back to him. He couldn't blame her but knew he had to invade her space once more to free her. 

"Apologies," he muttered as his fingers brushed her wrists and ankles so that he could break her from her bonds. Once she was free he backed away. Offering her space in case she blamed him, as well she should. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, wanting to check every inch of her for injury himself, willing to pluck a feather for each bruise, as superfluous as that would be, but unsure how well his touch would be received. He felt his heart break when she rolled over and looked at him incredulously. He knew then that he was right not to have touched her.

"No, Lucifer, I'm not alright," she said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "I almost died. He almost…" she trailed off, rubbing her throat grimacing. He was ashamed to see the bruised and broken, bleeding skin of her wrist where she had struggled for life. 

"I am so sorry, Chloe," he said softly, unable to look at her and see the price of his pride written in purple blood across her pale flesh. "I should have controlled my temper." She shook her head. 

"Yo . . . You were right to be angry," she whispered. It was clear that she needed to say more but she stopped, rubbing her throat again and swallowing heavily, grimacing. With a growl, he grabbed one of the feathers he could reach and plucked it, holding it out to her. His stomach dropped when she backed away from his hand shaking her head. He withdrew from the bed entirely, understanding her reluctance to allow him to touch her but leaving the feather on the comforter. Even though her words said he was forgiven and had held no lie, she still feared his touch, as well she should.

"Please accept it, Detective," he said, wishing his voice was more steady. "I'll understand if you want me to give you space, and I will. As much as the confines of our prison allows, but I want you to have that feather. As a gift. Or if you will not accept a gift as a repayment of my unofficial IOU to you. No strings, no obligations. It was my pride that injured you. Please allow me to repair it." He felt his throat begin to burn when she shook her head, determination in every line of her body. He turned to try to find somewhere more private so that she wouldn't be burdened by his grief at her finally coming to her senses. Especially when he had always known that she would. He jumped as he felt her hand entwine with his. 

She hated the look of wary hope on his face as he looked back at her. She hadn't meant to make him think she was rejecting him. She hadn't even realized he'd take it that way. She'd thought that he knew by now that she wasn't about to run screaming from him. She wasn't sure tha she'd be able to face Cain ever again but she didn't fear Lucifer. 'Evidence,' she mouthed pointing at her throat, a small smile on her face both at the idea that she feared a mortal man but not the Devil and at the incredulous and almost irritated expression on her partner's face.

"Detective, we're locked in a bunker underground," Lucifer countered, his tone relaying his irritation with her adherence to procedure when the evidence may never be needed. "Even without further injury _that_ is a crime. You do not need to endure this discomfort. Please, let me heal you. Besides, the feather's already been plucked. It's not like I can just put it back. Please, Chloe." She still looked unconvinced so he grinned and shrugged as if it didn't matter, though nothing was further from the truth.

"Alright then," he said, trying for unconcerned and failing. "I guess you'll just have to sit there in silence while I was poetic and monologue to keep myself from boredom. No alcohol, no drugs, no tele. Even Hell has boardgames. Not good ones, mind you, but more than one demon has brought down monopoly or twister. The last one can get pretty interesting. So can operation, really. But anyway, no outlets for distraction and you can't talk. Whatever will we do to pass the time? It's not even like we could do anything _particularly_ fun because I do require express verbal consent and continued consent. I have made exceptions to the verbal part in the past for people with actual disabilities but that is not you. Your only disability is stubbornness." 

"If you won't do it for your sake, please do it for mine," he finally said, moving towards her and sitting beside her when she patted the space. He ghosted his fingers over the bruises on her wrist before reaching slowly, waiting for her eyes to tell him to stop and brushed his own fingers against the red-purple marks of Cain's. 

"I hate being reminded of mistakes, and this was a lapse of judgement," Lucifer whispered. "You should not be the one to bear the burden of my errors. Especially not for the weeks it will take you to heal. Please, Chloe. Allow me to apologize properly and fix my mistake. I swear to you it is not one that I will repeat. The lesson has been learned. Your life is not worth my pride."

She took a deep, shuddering breath through her nose and nodded. He thought he saw tears before he instructed, "Close your eyes. This may get bright."

She did as he asked and felt all the more clearly when the downy feather touched her throat, the warmth of his fingers seeping through. Then that warmth was overcome as a wash of heat that radiated from the feather, it was intense but pleasant. Then, as suddenly as it came, it was gone taking with it all the aches she had accumulated. Even the stiffness from being restrained was gone. 

"That was . . . I mean . . . wow," she finally settled on, his amused snort was his only reply. "I feel wonderful. Better than I have in years. Thank you."

"No thanks are required, Detective," he replied, looking away. "Thank you for allowing me to assist you. It was only a little feather and far less than you are owed."

"It wasn't your fault, Lucifer," she sighed, reaching for him only for him to pull away and rise to his feet, pacing.

"I knew the consequences and still I attacked him and--"

"You were provoked," she argued, allowing him to place and rant realizing he needed the motion to feel less trapped.

"Detective, I am far old enough to ignore the provocations of someone who isn't even as old as some of my feathers. Well I suppose these he is, since these are less than a year old but you understand. I should have remembered the consequences. My sincerest apologies, Detective."

"Chloe," she corrected. "I think you've more than earned the right to use my name. After all, we've both nearly gotten the other one killed at least once in the past few days." He stopped pacing and stared at her in shock before seeing her faint grin and matching it with a smirk.

"Now who's being glib about serious matters?" he asked, his tone smug.

"What was it you said the other day, something like we can either laugh or cry?"

"Not quite but the sentiment was the same," he added when it was clear she expected a response. 

"This looks like it's going to be our reality for … at least a while. I'd rather be as happy as we can be, wouldn't you? I … I'm tired of crying, Lucifer. I'm tired of being afraid. For a bit can't we pretend that I finally said yes to one of your proposals of a weekend away and we rented this horrible one-room shack with no view on accident?" She offered him a watery smile. Even though it made his chest constrict, he couldn't deny her this. After all, role play wasn't lying. His protest was more that he would never have taken her somewhere this horrendous and had they arrived and this been their reservation in would _not_ have been their lodging. He wanted to protest that he would never treat her so far below what she deserved but knew empty promises were not what she needed now. Though it did give him an idea.

"One condition," he said with a fond smile. "When this is over you let me take you out for real and make up for this disastrous first date. It cannot be said that Lucifer Morningstar left a lovely lady unsatisfied with her time with him."

"We couldn't have that. It's a deal," she agreed, swallowing back the question of if he really thought that he would have to pay up and take her out. She knew he couldn't lie and didn't want to ruin the moment with the truth.

"I truly don't know how we came by such _dreadful_ lodgings," Lucifer said, a smirk on his face. "It was recommended to me by someone I've known for eternity." When she looked at him incredulously he raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh," she said as it dawned on her that he was setting the stage for her fantasy request by skirting as close to the truth as possible. "Yeah, I totally question your friend's taste." No sooner had the words left her mouth than a flap in the wall slid open and two disposable bowls full of lukewarm canned soup and a couple of slices of untoasted bread were slid through before it slammed shut again. 

"And the food came so highly recommended," she said wrinkling her nose at it. She had to laugh at the abject disgust on his face as he eyed the soup. 

"It's not even hot," he groused looking even more offended at her laughter. 

"I take that to mean you've never eaten it out of the can cold?" His horrified expression was more than answer enough. "Well, if you don't want it I'll eat yours. I'm starving." As she opened her mouth to take a bite his hand closed around her wrist guiding the spoon to his mouth instead with the look of a man walking to his execution. She resisted slightly, looking at him in confusion.

"Do you trust them not to have poisoned it?" She shook her head, pulling the spoon away from him slightly and getting the distinct impression that she only could because he allowed it. 

"Will it kill you if they did?" She asked. His expression softened at her concern. He couldn't contain his urge to stroke her cheek, this woman who cared if the Devil lived or died. He felt encouraged as she leaned in to touch, releasing a small contented noise.

"No poison from Earth can harm me, Chloe," he assured her. "Not even near you." That said, he leaned forward, the hand on her cheek moving to her shoulder, and closed his lips around the spoon. He grimaced as the flavor hit his tongue and swallowed with obvious effort. The act was completed with a full-body shudder.

"Lucifer?"

"I'm fine," he reassured her. "And other than having enough sodium to melt a slug, probably to hide the fact that it is otherwise tasteless, that is safe to eat. You may have mine if you wish, while I see if there is something to wash that horrid taste from my mouth." As soon as he'd declared it safe if not fit for human consumption she'd began eating, devouring most of her bowl and eying his. Canned soup or not, there might be some nutrition in there somewhere and he was wounded. 

"I know it's not exactly appetizing but you do have to eat," Chloe called wondering if he would hear her over the sound of running water. She was a bit surprised his hedonistic tendencies would allow him to forgo a meal just because it wasn't gourmet. Hunger wasn't comfortable.

"Actually, I don't," he replied, coming from the bathroom with a grin. "One thing Dad got right with the first draft. You lot got freewill and mortality and all the quirks that come with it, we got, for the most part, blind obedience and immortality. I can't die of disease, starvation or very much at all really. Especially when I'm not with you and am mostly invulnerable as well as immortal."

"So angels can't die?" she asked softly, stunned again that he would willingly seek out her company when she alone in the universe made him vulnerable. She wondered why it was that she had that effect on him.

"We … we can," his expression became haunted, the foul taste in his mouth having nothing to do with that swill and everything to do with his own guilt. "Azrael, the angel of death, her blade can wipe a celestial from existence. No heaven, no hell. Nothing. As if they never existed."

"Lucifer, did someone threaten to …" she trailed off as he shook his head, looking increasingly green. He felt decidedly unworthy of her protection.

"I did it," he whispered. "Back when my Mum, the Goddess of Creation, had escaped Hell and was inhabiting the body of Charlotte, my brother U-Uriel came to collect her. Amenadiel had fallen, become mortal, and I attempted to defend her. He … he …"

"You don't have to tell me," she offered, hating to see him struggle.

"No," he offered her a weak half-smile, "you need to know. _I_ need you to know. Uriel threatened to use your life as leverage. That car "accident", it was no accident. It was a message. A threat of what would happen if I didn't bring our mother to him."

"That's why you were all . . ."

"Insane," he offered, with an unamused wet snort. "You're quite capable for a human, Chloe, but against a celestial, an archangel no less, even one as passive as Uriel, you stood no chance"

"You tried to tell me," she said slowly, all of his erratic behavior suddenly making much more sense in light of the fact that there really were supernatural forces out there.

"It wouldn't have mattered had you believed me," he said sadly looking away from her again. "Uriel works … worked in very covert ways. Press an organ key, startle a mouse. Small changes compounding upon one another until there is a fifty car pileup on the 110 and you die. Even expecting it, there was no way for you to combat Uriel. So I did it." He sighed, inhaling and taking a shuddering breath before he continued. 

"I met with him," he said, tears beginning to fall. "He'd already beaten Amenadiel but our oldest brother had been mortal at the time. I wanted to try to talk but when he saw I didn't have our mother … he was going to kill her, you know. Planned to use Azreal's blade to wipe her from existence, he wasn't just going to take her back to Hell like he thought Dad wanted me to do. As if any of us know what Dad wants. And I… I couldn't _let_ him," he seemed to be begging her to agree with him but before she could speak he continued. "So we fought. He was always so good at reading patterns and he figured mine out. He beat me. I lost and he was about to kill Mum and you. And then Mazikeen came. And he was going to kill her. All of you. He was going to take you all from me. So I … I … I killed my brother. Stabbed him with the blade, like he'd never existed." He swallowed heavily, refusing to meet her eyes. 

"It doesn't sound like he left you much choice," Chloe said finally, her own throat tight as she watched him fight for control. "He boxed you in. Three people you cared about and he was just going to kill them to punish you. It's never easy to take a life, trust me, I know. But sometimes there isn't another option. It doesn't make it any easier to bear though, does it? Knowing that you made the worst choice for the right reasons?"

"Mum didn't see it that way," Lucifer whispered. "Amenadiel either. All they saw was the big bad Devil who killed his brother. The first angel murder. Never mind that Michael would have done it to me if Dad had commanded it."

"Mum actually blamed you, you know," he said looking at her, "and Mazikeen. She seemed to think that if she and Uriel could have talked she could have fixed it. She was horrified by what I'd done. Could barely even look at me. Why aren't you? I'm the Devil, Chloe. I've ruled Hell for eons and that was not without challenges to my rule. Challenges I quashed ruthlessly. I've tortured, killed, made examples of dissidents. Eradicated my own brother. Why aren't you terrified? How can you stand to be locked in with me?" 

She thought about it a moment and while she could remember times he'd crossed lines, hurt people, it had never been the innocent. As she thought about it she realized that many of those lines had been blurred for her sake. The memory of him screaming in pain as he shielded her, knowing that would be the outcome rose unbidden to her mind and she suddenly knew the answer as clearly as if it were written before her. She'd almost told him in the field when she thought they were going to die and he deserved to know anyway.

"Tell me this, and then I'll answer your question," she said approaching him even as he backed away. "Have you ever _deliberately_ caused harm to someone who didn't deserve it? Have you ever hurt someone just to bring yourself satisfaction rather than in seeking retribution, divine or otherwise?"

"No," he said cautiously. "I punish the guilty. Sometimes that guilt is misplaced but it is still mine to punish, if I choose."

"That's why," she said simply. "I know you, Lucifer. You're not evil. Hedonistic, childish, vengeful yes. Your temper and self-control could use some work but you are not a bad person. Actually, you being the Devil makes you make a whole lot more sense and makes your "I'm above the rules" attitude more bearable since you actually are. It also explains your vanity and promiscuity."

"But you have a selfless streak too," she added as he preened under her listing of his sins. " Few people would grant extravagant favors on an IOU basis, never knowing if the need to collect would arise. Fewer still would kill in defense of another, knowing what that action would do to them." He opened his mouth to protest but she silenced him, placing her hand on his cheek.

"I'm not done," she said. "You'll get your turn when I am. The last thing I've seen you do … I don't know hardly anyone else who would risk it. You are willing to die to protect others."

"Not others, Chloe," he corrected softly, meeting her gaze with an intensity that made her feel as if he was trying to read her mind rather than her face. "I wouldn't risk my life for just anyone. I'm not selfless."

"But Malcom," she said slowly. "Amenadiel lied. It wasn't blood pacs and fake charges. You did die that time, didn't you?" He nodded. "And when I was poisoned, he took the antidote to his grave, didn't he?"

"All the way to Hell," Lucifer confirmed, something burning in his eyes she recognized but couldn't name. "Without my wings I had to get there the traditional way. Longest moment of Dr. Linda's life, or so she says."

"You died," she breathed, knowing what he meant but needing to have it confirmed. He nodded. "And you were ready to do it again the other day, weren't you? I saw how much agony that caused you, still causes you. How can you claim that isn't selfless?" He closed his eyes and clutched the hand still on his cheek, knowing it would be the last time she touched him willingly.

"What is the common denominator, Chloe?" He asked, wanting her to make the connection. "When Malcolm killed me, when I went to Hell for a cure, Uriel's death, Cain, what do all of those situations have in common? I said I wouldn't risk my life for anyone but you aren't just anyone,Chloe. I … I've been alive for longer than I care to remember and have never met another like you. I … I…"

"Lucifer, do you love me?" She was startled to see his face crumpled. 

"Please don't make me answer that, Chloe," he breathed. "Everything that I have ever loved has been taken from me. Every time I've been on the verge of declaring it, something has happened to us. You've almost died, I _have_ died, I end up devil-napped."

"Or run away to Vegas and marry a stripper," she added grinning at him.

"Touché," he said with a wry smile. "The point is as long as I neither say it nor intend to, things seem to go fairly well. We're already in a rough spot. Don't ask me to make it worse."

She nodded, "Okay, I won't ask. I don't need to hear anything until you're ready." she leaned forward stopping just a hair's breadth from his lips. He hesitated before closing the gap with a gentle almost timid kiss. She tried to deepen it but he pulled away gently.

"I would enjoy that immensely," he said when she looked up at him in question, "however your breath reeks of that prison swill. I would prefer my memory of our first kiss with real intent to remain unsullied. There are toiletries and a modestly sized shower through that door."

"So I need to brush my teeth and take a bath before you'll have me?" She asked waffling between amused and offended.

"Will I be? Having you that is? It's never wise to tempt the Devil, Detective," he said, his tone becoming sinful while his expression took on a predatory edge. She bit her lip, considering the repercussions before deciding.

"One condition," she said with a smirk. 

"What is it that you desire, Darling," he purred, feeling his stomach twisting into knots at the idea she was going to say yes, and terrified that she would say no. 

"Two conditions then," she amended. He nodded and her smirk turned softer. "Firstly, you need a bath. Can your wings get wet?"

"Bloody pains in the arse to get dry but yes, they can get wet," he said. "And a bath would be lovely. Dried blood is quite itchy. I accept that term. What's the second condition?"

"If we do this," she said slowly, enunciating each word and locking her eyes on his to gauge his reaction, "it needs to be special. You've had probably _thousands_ of lovers. I'm sure that many of them were _far_ more skilled than I have any hope of being. But, I am also willing to bet that not one of them asked what _you_ wanted. If we do this, tonight it's my turn to ask; Lucifer Morningstar, what is it _you_ desire?" She was shocked when she found herself crushed to his chest and it took her a moment to return the hug. When he released her, she looked up at him without stepping out of his space.

"So, what do you desire?" She asked.

"A bath," he replied with a smirk.


	10. Things Clean and Dirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some not particularly explicit adult content, especially Lucifer's mouth. The first little section (13 or so paragraphs) has some important plot points. After that, the rest of this chapter could be skipped if you try to avoid things of a carnal nature. Please stay safe out there folks. And stay home if you can.

It turned out that wanting a bath and getting one were two entirely different things. While his wings apparently had no issue appearing through fabric, with them stuck in a corporeal form, there was no way to remove his shirt or jacket without destroying the material. And while very basic amenities had been provided, clothing was not one of them. Lucifer had been less upset by the idea than Chloe had. 

"I have many more suits at home, Detective," he had argued. "Besides, this one is neither my favorite nor particularly expensive." He had scoffed at her argument that he would have nothing to wear stating, "modesty is a _human_ concept, darling, I have no objection to nudity. It's not like you haven't seen me naked. And I'd still have my trousers." She had blushed, not wanting to let him know just how pleasant she actually found the idea of him having to be shirtless. His lascivious grin suggested she needn't have bothered. He knew. In the end, they found a compromise courtesy of the tiny scissors in the shaving kit. Chloe cut a single slit down the shirt and jacket from each wing to the hem to allow for removal and reapplication. 

"Maybe your tailor can fix them?" She offered as he held the garments in a pincer grip away from him. Disgust radiating from every line of his body.

"When we get out I'm burning them," he returned. "I've always been partial to the cleansing power of flames. It was mine to command, you know. Even after my Fall. Light, fire, heat. They were mine. But I lost them over time. I assume being away from the Silver City didn't allow me to replenish those reserves. That's one of the only things that I miss. With nothing more than a thought," before he finished speaking, there was a small flame flickering in his hand, "I could summon fire," he finished grinning maniacally. The little flame rose and fell in time to his breathing, changing hue from red and yellow to blue and white. He turned his hand allowing the flame to crawl from his palm to the back of it, leaving unblemished flesh in its wake. 

"Hold out your hand, Chloe," he said suddenly, mischief alight in his eyes. 

"Lucifer," she said warily. She trusted him, but that was _fire_. It was very well ingrained in her psyche that you _don't_ touch fire. And here he was asking her to do just that. She trusted him, he wouldn't ask her to do something that would hurt her for a laugh, but that was fire.

"It won't hurt you," he promised, seeing her inner conflict. "I would never hurt you on purpose." She nodded shakily and extended her hand only for him to drop the flame into her palm. Despite everything in her screaming to drop it before it burned her, she held still. Even though he had said it was safe, she was surprised when rather than burn her the flames tickled along her skin like water. Poking a finger into it, she watched in amazement as the fire flowed around it, chaotic and wild and beautiful. 

"It's cool," she said smiling at the double meaning in her words.

"My favorite trick," he said with a smile. "Dad gets all the credit for the burning bush thing but that was me. Actually that was about the time my abilities disappeared. I didn't mean to inspire a rebellion. I just wanted to mess with a shepherd. I didn't know that he had the connections to overthrow Egypt."

" _You_ triggered the Exodus," she laughed. 

"No," he argued, his expression becoming haughty. " _I_ lit a bush on fire. _He_ was the one that took it as a sign from Dad and led a bloody revolt."

"The plagues?"

"Freak natural chain of events," Lucifer assured her. "Maybe Uriel had something to do with triggering it to mess with me. I don't know. Never will, I suppose." As he grew sad, the flame in her palm shifted to red and what had been cool became almost icy. She winced in discomfort and the fire vanished instantly. 

"Apologies, Chloe. I forgot how strongly emotions affect the little ones," he blew out a slow breath before standing straighter and beginning to remove the remainder of his clothing. "Now, for that bath you keep promising." She nodded, turning her attention to the tap and trying to ignore the fact that she was dodging wings while her hand tinged from the flame her partner, who had triggered _the_ Exodus _,_ had conjured from nothing. She kept reminding herself that nothing had changed. She knew the truth but he was still Lucifer, the same eccentric person he had been before, just not actually delusional or insane. He was still Lucifer. Her partner. But avoiding the one problem led to another; namely the fact that she was preparing to take a shower with _Lucifer._ Her partner. The Devil. Who was naked. Again. He truly had no shame. But she did. 

Even though she'd propositioned him earlier, she had always imagined that any occasion of her getting naked with him would involve frenzied, roaming hands and kisses, no room for second thoughts or shame. But this, oh, there was plenty of room for thought and she was beginning to think that she couldn't go through with it. Especially when he stepped into the shower and released an absolutely _carnal_ moan that had her insides quivering and a blush staining her cheeks.

"Oh, Detective, you really _must_ join me," he purred. "While nowhere as good as my shower, the water is practically sinful." Her mind offered that it wasn't the only thing practically sinful in that bathroom as her blush colored further.

"Actually, I think I'll let you have it to yourself," she said, hearing the edge on her own words and knowing that he would too. His head popped out past the curtain instantly, a confused look on his face only compounded by the smearing eyeliner and wet hair on his forehead. 

"This was your condition," he said. "Why are you backing out? You haven't changed your mind, have you? About what you suggested for after our bath? I would understand if you did but--"

"No? I mean I want to. I want _you,_ " she said her gut twisting as she struggled to find the words. His face fell with each stuttered explanation until all sign of openness was gone and he looked at her with weary eyes.

"I sense a but," he said stepping out of the shower but making no move to come towards her. His tone was curt as well and she could sense the chill in the air that hadn't been there. She would have been irritated with him for pouting at the mere hint of a "no" if it wasn't for the fact that his expression seemed more resigned than irritated. It was like he had already _eexpected_ her to change her mind. He expected her to reject him. The fact that one of LA's most notorious playboys expected to not have sex with her emboldened her and she moved toward him slightly, stopping when he unconsciously stepped back. 

"No. There's no but. I just … Lucifer, every time I ever imagined anything happening between us it was spontaneous, visceral," she said, watching his expression change from concerned to interested as she kept talking. "Not … not calculated. Planned. This just …"

"Lacks spontaneity," he supplied, moving towards her with a decidedly mischievous smirk. "So, you've imagined this, have you? Where?"

"My place, Lux, the precinct, my squad car," she listed, smiling as the chill lifted and his face came alive more with each location.

"I meant the location of the _act_ , my dear, not the location of the fantasizing," he replied. "Oh," he corrected as a blush rose up her face. "I see. Spontaneity. I do approve, it just … surprises me. So, how do your fantasies begin? Do I start the encounter or are you the aggressive one."

"It varies," she replied, a bit uncomfortable discussing this with him. "But, usually you."

"So, what do I do?" She closed her eyes as his fingers ghosted along her cheekbone and jaw. "Do I kiss you gently or am I bolder still, grasping your luscious bum and pulling you against me? Do I kiss down your neck, or is it my teeth that you feel as I move from your face towards your breasts?" His fingers followed the path of his words, trailing down her neck to the buttons of her shirt leaving a tingling in their wake reminiscent of the fire he'd created.

"Do I take my time savoring each bit of revealed flesh, or is it a more frantic coupling, filled with the rush of imminent discovery?"

"Usually the latter," Chloe breathed, turning her head to grant him access as his mouth began following the path his fingers had taken moments before. "But this is nice." She felt more than heard his chuckle radiate up her collarbone.

"My dear Chloe," he said. "Get in the shower with me and once we're clean I will show you that this isn't even an appetizer." She found that her previous objections were no longer valid and their combined fingers soon made short work of her clothing. It was only once they were naked together in the shower and he accidentally smacked her with his wing while looking for a washcloth that she realized the ludicrousness of her situation. She was in the shower with _the_ Lucifer. The actual Devil. Dodging sodden archangel wings, much less impressive than even mangled dry ones, and contemplating sex with said celestial being. The being who lit the fucking stars was washing her back and grousing that the single water source was far inferior to his own and ruined the pleasure of a joint shower. With a contented sigh she turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. 

"Inferior or not, I'm glad you're with me," she muttered. He said nothing but she felt his pleased hum as he brought his own arms around her and shifted so that she was in the spray as well. He had to admit that despite the inferior accommodations this was the most pleasant shower he'd ever had. 

* * *

After their shower, Chloe tried to stall, insisting that they needed to care for Lucifer's wings before anything else could happen but when she reached for the left one he pulled it out of reach and grabbed her wrist. He clicked his tongue at her, shaking his head. 

"Ah, ah ah, Detective," he said, pulling her against him again. "You told me that the second condition of our evening activities was that they be about what _I_ desire. And I can assure you _that_ is not what I desire."

"Is what you desire an infection?" She asked, pushing gently against his hold to reach for his wing again. 

"No," he said a bit firmly, placing a hand on either side of her face. "What I desire is you, naked and moaning my name in the throes of passion. I _desire_ to see what exactly it takes to cause you to come undone. To hear what noises you make as you lose yourself to ecstacy. I know what your arousal smells like, I desire to know how it tastes."

"What about for yourself?" She asked, more aroused than she wanted to admit by his suggestion. "All of that has been about me, Lucifer. What do you desire?"

"Chloe, I enjoy seeing the wants of others met. This will please me," he assured her. "Grant me the license to touch you. It may take me longer than usual since I can't just _ask_ , but I _will_ discover what you like." With a fond smile she stood on her toes, pressing her towel-clad chest against his naked one and captured his mouth in a crushing kiss, full of passion and want. He was still, shocked, for a heartbeat but then he was there, meeting her kiss while his hands explored her body.

"You can still ask," she whispered when they came up for air before kissing him again. "I will answer. No mojo required." He smiled at her, his right hand stroking her cheek as his left hand found her breast and began gently kneading the flesh. He was encouraged when she pressed into his touch with a little moan. 

"Now for the test," he whispered. "Do you prefer this" he gently flicked her nipple with his index finger, "or this?" He switched to rolling it between his thumb and middle finger. Her physical reaction told him what he wanted to know, but he wondered if she would speak.

"Both are nice," she said, looking up at him with eyes beginning to cloud with passion. "Second's better." Satisfied that her words and reactions matched, he lifted her and headed out of the bathroom towards the bed.

"You passed the quiz, Darling," he purred. "Now it's time for your exam." Pressed together as they were, he didn't miss the shudder that went through her. "Do you like it when I talk about what I am doing and going to do?" He felt her nod. "Then, I suppose it's a good thing that I never shut up, isn't it, Detective?"

* * *

Hours later as they basked in post-coital bliss, Chloe snuggled impossibly closer and kissed the pulse point on his neck she had discovered he liked. _God, I love you Lucifer_ she thought, too tired and sated to be able to speak. 

"Wrong deity, Love," she thought she heard Lucifer reply but she was too close and the pull of sleep was too strong. With a contented sigh, she drifted off, sleeping peacefully in the arms of the Devil. Lucifer smiled at her for a moment, watching her face relax in sleep before kissing her forehead and closing his own eyes. While he still couldn't believe she had chosen him, after what had occurred between them that evening, for the first time he truly believed he might be worthy of her.


	11. Photographic Proof and Changes in the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eternal thanks to oreo69 who suggested that this chapter and the next were vague and constituted a plot hole. I felt that a re-edit was necessary. This is the improved version

"Those are doctored," Ella said, shaking her head and thumbing through the images on the table before her. Serial still-frames of bullets bouncing off Lucifer. A shot of what looked like Amenadiel framed in giant black wings. Serial images of Lucifer throwing a grown man at least fifteen feet through a window with one hand. And most disturbing of all, an image of Lucifer with hellfire glowing in his irises and a cruel grin on his face. It sent chills up her spine and made her want to beg for forgiveness even though she'd done nothing wrong.

"No way those are real," she reiterated, flipping the image with the hellfire over, unable to look at it any more. It just didn't jive with what she knew of Lucifer. "Those aren't Lucifer. I mean, they guy brings donuts and coffee to the whole precinct. I mean, yeah, he sometimes gets overzealous about the punishment of the guilty aspect of the job but … if he really _is The_ Devil, why is he working with the LAPD? Seems a bit small change, doesn't it?"

"It does," Anders agreed; waving a second stack of photos. "But, I assure you, those photos are real and undoctored. As are these. They came from the security cameras at the first and second scenes. I'll let you see the tapes instead if you wish." She debated a moment, worrying her lip.

"I'd like that," she said, hoping she wouldn't regret it. She regretted it. Even without sound, the fastforwarded images of Lucifer defending himself and Chloe and being shot and then bound made her stomach twist. Then the image changed to the cage and it only got worse from there. 

"Shut it off," she whispered but Anders didn't listen and she found that she couldn't tear her eyes away until she watched Pierce lead Chloe and Lucifer out and load them in a van. He pushed a button and the timestamps marched forward about an hour before she watched herself and Anders walk in.

"We were so close," she moaned. 

"We were," he agreed. "And you were right. Winged hominids. And Lucifer is one of them. Is he really the Devil? I don't know but he isn't human. And he and your detective were both alive earlier today. So we can still find and rescue them."

"What do you plan to do to him when we find him?" Ella asked, wondering if even after all she'd seen Pierce put them through they weren't better off there than locked up in some Area 51 level shit.

"Talk," Anders promised. "Maybe see if he'll help us but he will be free to move as he will." She nodded still trying to wrap her head around the fact that he wasn't human. 

"Then let's bring them home," she said.

* * *

After a breakfast of microwaved toaster waffles and frozen sausage, Chloe was insistent that Lucifer allow her to change his dressings. She shot down all of his protests and he continued to refuse before she pulled a card she knew he would have no argument against. 

"Lucifer, I don't want you to die," she said softly. She was right. His expression softened and he sighed. "Please, let me take care of you."

"If it didn't kill me the first day, it's not going to kill me now," he countered. "I'm immune to human diseases. I won't get an infection." At her pleading look he heaved a put-upon sigh. "Fine," he agreed. "You may have your way with me. But we're doing it in the bathroom."

"Why? This has to be cleaner than the bathroom."

"There are no cameras in the bathroom," he replied. "If I'm going to let you torture me, I won't give Cain the satisfaction of having it recorded to watch at his leisure."

"So there are cameras in here?" She asked, her voice shooting through two octaves. She could feel and embarrased blush rise up her cheeks, quickly giving rise to anger. There were cameras that had recorded everything they'd done. They'd basically made porn and she wouldn't put it past Pierce to sell it. There was probably a market out there for angel porn. The only question that remained was had Lucifer known?

"There, there and there," Lucifer said pointing to each in turn with a shrug, not noticing the shift in her mood. "And it looks like at least one microphone… there."

"So what we did last night, it was recorded?!" He nodded, more warily now that he heard the barely controlled rage in her tone. "Did you know last night that they were here?" He at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Damn it, Lucifer! You didn't think I needed to know that?"

"Oh, Detective, you act as if you've never made a sex tape," he said calmly, totally nonplussed at having had his sexual exploits caught on camera. Though, it was cut through with more caution than his usual bravado and he had gone unnaturally still.

"I hadn't," she snapped, unwilling to let go of her anger if he was going to act like it didn't matter. "You _should_ have told me." 

"Apologies," he said, looking away, unable to meet her eyes. "The next time I know we are being observed I will apprise you." His words were hopeful but his posture suggested that he didn't believe there would be a next time. 

"You'd better," she replied, her anger abating at his repentance. A sudden, uncomfortable thought occurred to her and she had to ask, "You didn't do it on purpose just to goad Marcus, did you?"

"No, Chloe," he said looking back at her, his eyes repentant. "Had it occurred to me that this would bother you, I would have kept our activities in the bathroom." She nodded, satisfied that he hadn't sacrificed her dignity just to get back at Marcus. This was just another situation his lack of understanding of human concepts like shame and modesty bit her in the ass.

"Never again, Lucifer," she said sternly. "I am telling you now that I never wish to be observed or recorded during sex without my express permission."

"I understand, Chloe," he said, absent his usual dramatic flare. "Never again. You have my word." She nodded, content in his promise.

"The bathroom then?" She asked, forcing brightness into her tone. He nodded and walked towards the door looking like a man walking to his own execution. He looked around for a moment before grabbing a chair and taking it with him. Once inside, he set the chair down and sat backward in it, crossing his arms on the back and leaning his head on his forearms. He closed the left wing more tightly and opened the right as far as he could. She approached slowly stroking his feathers softly before grasping the first gauze tuft and pulling gently and tossing it into the sink. She was shocked when no blood flowed at the removal of the packing. Every time the nurses had pulled hers when she'd been shot it bled. She looked at the wound and was surprised to see pink tissue that looked weeks old. She shook her head and moved to the next where she found the same thing. _Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern_ , she thought, pulling the third to the same result. 

"Lucifer, how do your wings feel?" She asked, wondering if he could shed light on the situation. 

"Stiff. Itchy. Why?" 

"These wounds look weeks old," she answered. "That's not about three times faster than I heal."

"It's not," he agreed, reaching for the scissors she had used the night before. "Try to stab me, Detective."

"No!," she snapped smacking his shoulder. "I've already shot you for your experiments, I won't stab you." He sighed and rolled his eyes before raising his hand and bringing the scissors down and trying to stab them into his arm. Chloe's yelp of alarm proved unnecessary. Rather than stab him, the scissors bent leaving unmarked skin in their wake.

"The game just changed, Darling," Lucifer said, grinning maniacally. "We're going home."

* * *

"What do you mean they're alive but you can't show me proof," Dan hissed at her in the interrogation room she'd drug him into. "Do you mean you have 'faith' they're alive."

"No, I mean I _know_ they're alive but I can't show you because the power-tripping FBI won't let me," Ella replied, irritated more than she could explain that he would think it had to do with faith. If Lucifer really was the Devil, then God really was real too and he still allowed all kinds of shady shit to go down. Maybe Lucifer's insistence that God is a jerk was justified. 

"They won't let you. Maybe I should just--"

"No!" she snapped putting herself between him and the door. "I wasn't even supposed to tell you. Don't rat me out. Just … as of this morning, she was still alive and walking on her own power."

"There's a video," he breathed. "You've actually seen her." Ella nodded. "You have to get them to let me see it." She was shaking her head before he'd even finished. She could barely get her head wrapped around what she'd seen and knew that the last thing Dan needed at the moment was to know that his ex-wife and daughter regularly shared space with someone who might actually be the Devil. And if he was, Oh God, that meant Maze was an actual demon. Yeah. Dan definitely didn't need to know.

"You don't want to," she said, her tone conveying her sincerity at her recent realizations. 

"Pierce didn't … she's okay, isn't she? He didn't …"

"Oh, no. No. No. She's been treated ok as far as I could tell, normal kidnapping stuff," Ella assured him. "Lucifer though, either he is the opposite of a model prisoner or Pierce _really_ hates him." Dan nodded. While he was glad that Chloe was physically alright, she was fond of Lucifer and he hated to think what whatever Pierce was doing to him was doing to her mental health. And he had to admit, while Lucifer was an ass if it was enough to make Ella uncomfortable, he probably couldn't have done anything to deserve it. But on the positive side, they were both alive that morning and if he'd kept them alive this long he was probably not planning on killing them. He had to hope that was true. He didn't think he could survive another loss. Especially one at Pierce's hand.

* * *

Their escape plan, made in hushed whispers hidden by the running water of the shower was simple. With Lucifer invulnerable, the boobytraps were irrelevant. Chloe could hide under one of his wings. Any injury she might suffer wouldn't be fatal and could be healed. While he didn't like the idea of her being hurt, there was no other, viable way. There would be no time to collect food and they had no way to store water but they would just have to make it work. Chloe was more concerned about what they were going to do about his wings. With them bound, they couldn't be hidden. With them out, they couldn't ask for help from strangers. 

"I can't fix that," Lucifer snapped when she brought it up for the third time. "I've already tried to break it despite my better judgment. Invulnerable or not, there are still metal rings embedded in my flesh through which a cable is threaded that is welded shut. I can't break it and trying _hurts_."

"Okay, we'll figure something else out," she sighed. While getting out of the bunker was the first and most important step, she saw so many places that their attempt could fail. They were in the middle of nowhere with no food, no water and no transportation and no idea where they were. All they had was one half-baked plan and a grounded Devil. She knew they should wait but she also wanted out as soon as possible and they could always find a way to free him later, after which he assured her that flying home would be no problem. 

"What's to figure out?" he said brightly. "We get out and call either Maze or Dr. Linda. They can come get us and bring some bolt cutters." She shook her head, knowing that it would not likely be that simple but trusting his charm and experience to get them through it.

"When?"

"Now," he replied, leaving the bathroom and walking towards the vault door. She expected him to knock it off it's hinges, but he just touched it and with a dull thud it swung open. He held out his hand and folded his right wing tightly against his back, giving the left enough slack to cocoon around her. At his insistence, she wrapped her arms and legs around him and allowed herself to be enveloped as he started to move. Before he could reach the steps, he stopped short with a hiss. She peeked out to see Lucifer frozen, a familiar curved black blade against his throat with a ruby drop welling at the tip. His eyes glowed red as he glared at Levi where he stood in the shadows of a hallway by the stairs. Only concern for Chloe's wellbeing were their escape to fail stayed his hand from swatting Levi like the gnat he was. 

"Don't glare at me like that. Not when I've saved all our lives. If you take another step we're all dead," Levi said. "The stairs are wired to blow that whole tunnel and then we run out of oxygen and suffocate. Is that what you want?"

"What I _want_ is to know how you got that blade," Lucifer replied, his tone unsteady and his expression concerned. Either Mazikeen had well and truly betrayed him or she had been defeated. Both prospects were deeply troubling. "That is not of Earth."

"Took it off some chick," Levi replied, shrugging while keeping the blade to Lucifer's throat. "Kept going on about being a demon and what she would do to me. Clearly she was bluffing. I'd think a demon could take on a few humans."

"You beat Mazikeen," Lucifer breathed, horrified. "Where is she?" He knew that for them to have taken one of her hellforged blades she must have been incapacitated and likely unconscious. He felt for the tendrils of his power that bound them together and came up empty-handed. He felt his blood run cold as Levi spoke, confirming his suspicions. 

"Last I saw," he replied unconcerned, "unconscious on the ground. She looked rough. Might not have made it. Now back up. I'm not ready to die." Lucifer swallowed and hesitated, feeling more desperately for his tie to Mazikeen with no better results. He didn't move until Levi applied a bit more pressure, the drop becoming a rivulet, the cut stinging in a way only hellforged steel could.

"I said back up," Levi repeated, shifting his position to grab the cable and attempt to pull Lucifer backwards, the tip of the blade moving along his neck, leaving a thin trail before resting between his shoulder blades and pricking the skin there. As it skirted his wing Lucifer jolted, his heart aching as he remembered Mazikeen doing the same before she cut off his wings. She'd been so loyal then and now she was gone. No heaven, no hell. Just gone. He felt empty. Hollow. When Levi pulled again, it was as if he lacked the substance to resist, his feet stepping backwards of their own volition. 

"That's it. Back up nice and slow," Levi instructed, doing the same."Set her down." Lucifer watch as his hands grasped Chloe, his wing brushing a tear from her cheek as she looked up at him with horror that mirrored his own. He knew he should say or do something, anything but how could he comfort her when he had nothing to offer but emptiness? He couldn't promise it would be ok. How could it be when Mazikeen was gone?

"Detective, cuff yourself to the bed frame." She followed directions mutely, cuffing her right wrist to the bedpost giving herself a bit of slack and hoping he wouldn't check it. She couldn't see another choice. She wasn't sure she could take Levi without getting either her, Lucifer or both of them fatally stabbed. And Lucifer didn't seem like he'd be any help at the moment. He had the most lost and blank expression she had yet seen him wear and seemed to have lost the will to fight.

There was a sinking feeling in her gut that things had only gotten worse for them as she watched Levi lead Lucifer backwards like a sleepwalker. Her suspicions were confirmed when Levi pulled a remote from his pocket and lowered an industrial clamp on a thick cable from the ceiling and clipped it onto the cable threaded through Lucifer's wings before raising it again until only the balls of his feet touched. She saw the raw panic replace the blankness in Lucifer's eyes before he closed them and resignation radiated from him in waves.

"You'll both stay there until the Boss comes," Levi said, walking around Lucifer, staying out of arms reach, towards the door. "He's not going to be happy when he does. I can't wait to see what he does to you." Neither of them replied as the door closed and locked with a quiet hiss.


	12. Hallucinations or Divine Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has also been updated thanks to Oreo69. Hopefully it flows better and feels more organic.

Eventually, the wait for the Pierce to come became too long and the adrenaline faded. Despite a couple of quickly aborted attempts at conversation they soon lapsed into miserable silence, each trapped on their own fears and regrets. Without the stimulation, Chloe drifted to sleep leaning against the bed frame. Lucifer didn't begrudge her the escape from their wretched reality. He only wished he could do the same but he couldn't find a position that was even vaguely comfortable enough. Not that he deserved comfort when his decisions had caused others such pain. He deserved punishment for his selfishness. Even as his muscles began to ache and cramp, had to admire Cain and Levi's ingenuity the men would have made great demons.

Despite the fact that his wings were mostly whole, this was actually more painful than the first time he'd been bound. Michael had been angry and there was no denying that he had hurt him, but there had been no premeditated malice in it. He had done what he was told to do. He hadn't realized it at the time, but his twin _had_ shown him some compassion. The loops of chain he had strung across his chest and under his arms hadn't been there to be constricting, as he'd thought at the time, but had actually borne some of his weight, preventing his broken wings from holding it all. Cain and Levi had not been so kind. 

Accordioned and wrenched unnaturally, the full weight of his body with the _minuscule_ exception of what he could lift with his toes, was hanging from the two grommets near the base of his wings. The skin around them burned as they tried and failed to tear the invulnerable flesh. Even shifting from one foot to the other to relieve the growing ache there sent lightning coursing down his nerves. It was due to this, and his previously acquired knowledge that it wouldn't help that he resisted the urge to roll his shoulders and try to alleviate the mounting tension. Tension that would only grow worse as time stretched on. Yes, Cain was an evil genius.

As the hours marched by with no sign of Cain or Levi, the ache became an inferno of pain. Even knowing that it would be futile, he couldn’t stop his shoulders from trying to relieve it. As he’d known it would, pain shot through him at the motion so white hot that he was instantly nauseated. On instinct he tried to pull away from the pain, the action causing his feet to slip and for a brief yet interminable moment he was suspended strictly by the cable and the grommets. His cry was sharp, short and involuntary. Torn from him without his consent, without his choice. Despite his rebellion, his banishment, all of the time he had ruled hell, none of it mattered. His choice had always been an illusion.And a bloody _human_ had been the one to prove it. He felt tears begin to gather and made no attempt to stop them. He’d already lost everything else, what did it matter if they saw him cry? What had his pride done for him? Nothing. But it had cost him everything.

His father, his family, his _twin_ . . . he had lost them for nothing. And now he’d lost Mazikeen and was going to lose the Detective. Cain would not allow their disobedience to go unpunished and strung up, helpless, unable to protect her, there was nothing he could do to stop him from hurting her. Even with his invulnerability back, he couldn’t break free from the cable that held him. Without him to protect her, Cain could kill her. He would. Lucifer knew he was well and truly trapped. Cain had no need of her now, she was only a liability, an accomplice, a risk.

And even if he didn't kill her, she would come to hate him for their imprisonment. He held no illusion they would be given another opportunity to make a run for it. All because he had refused to break an extorted deal and had allowed them _unimaginable_ liberties with his body. His father had been right all those eons ago, pride was his downfall. And now his damned pride would be her downfall. All because he had clung to his pride of proving everyone who said the Devil lies wrong and had pridefully clung to an extorted, warped deal with a scoundrel. He should have shelved his pride and broken them free from the truck. Then the Detective would have lived, so too might have Mazikeen. Both dead for his pride while he would live forever, Cain's pet healer, chained like the slave he was for all eternity. For the first time since his fall, the memories were better than his reality and as they pulled at him, he embraced them, welcoming the lower stakes pain in them rather than the certain losses of his present. 

He welcomed the memory of his brother breaking his bones as a just punishment for the pain he'd caused others rather than an unfair act of vengeance for saring to ask for the right to choose. But the memory wasn’t a perfect recreation. Where before he had remained silent, stoic in the face of injustice, this time he wept. He begged them to make it right, to fix what he had broken.

All the words he had wanted to say the first time that he held back, they flowed like water. When his father asked if he repented, he pleaded for forgiveness for the harm his pride had caused. He closed his eyes, flinching away as his Father reached forward, knowing that forgiveness would not be offered and felt a wave of peace wash over him and what felt like the warm energy of his Father before it was replaced by impossibly small cool fingers touching his face, wiping away the tears. A soothing voice whispering comfort before the fingers were withdrawn abruptly and something bumped into his leg. His eyes opened in curiosity only to see Chloe standing there, an impossibly sad expression in her face and a chair in her hand. She smiled sadly at him before gesturing at the chair. “Need a hand?” she asked. Despite their situation, the knowledge that things would never work out, Lucifer couldn’t shake the sense of peace that radiated from his core, a silent promise that things would be alright. 

* * *

_I no where they r_. The text read. Ella blinked at it a few times before registering that it was from Maze. At three in the morning. She rubbed her eyes and went to read it again. 

_Lucifer & Chloe. _A new text had come through offering clarification Ella hadn't asked for flowed by a map with a red dot in the middle of nowhere. 

_Do u know because ur a demon and he's the Devil and summoned u?_ Ella typed before deleting the last few words, retyping them and hitting send before she could think better of it. Three little dots appeared and disappeared a few times before the reply came.

_Something like that. Clearly we need 2 talk._

_After they're back. Promise._ Ella sighed. Maze hadn't denied it. Crazy as it seemed, maybe Lucifer was actually the Devil. With another sigh and a curse, she got up and found the pants she'd been wearing that day and dug out Agent Anders' business card. Forwarding the map to his cellphone with a text.

_They are here. Don't ask me how I know, I won't tell._ It was only a few moments later when the reply came. 

_Get dressed. I'm on my way._ She did as instructed wondering just how in the hell she had gotten herself into this situation.

* * *

Chloe woke with a start as Lucifer cried out and looked around to find him only to see him frantically scrambling to get his feet under him. She moved to go to him only to be stopped by the cuff around her wrist. She pulled against it, testing the tightness, thankful that Levi hadn’t checked her work, too focused on ensuring Lucifer behaved. It slid easily to the first knuckle of her thumb and pinky but it hung up there, just that little bit too tight to easily slip. She glanced at him again and saw that he had gotten his feet under him and wondered if she should just leave it be. He had been rather adamant before that they not go against the wills of their captors and she could feel her chest flutter with anxiety at the memory of what had happened the last time they had disobeyed. It suddenly felt as though there was not enough air in the room. 

She had decided to stay where she was when he began to cry. Great hitching sobs wracked his body, along with what were clearly cries of pain, though no one was touching him. Odder still were the other noises he was making. Lyrical, melismatic sounds that had too many tones to be formed by human vocal chords but that had a clear tone of pleading. Not knowing what to do but knowing that she had to do something, Chloe summoned up what little saliva she had and spat on her own wrist, hoping it would help. Knowing what she planned was going to hurt, she scrunched up her eyes, grabbing the fingers of her left hand with her right and pressed her thumb and pinky inward while leaning back with her body weight against the cuff. Millimeter by millimeter it slipped over her knuckles tearing the skin the process. When the cuff finally slipped over her hand, she fell ungracefully to her butt before climbing to her feet and running to him. His hands were out in supplication, his eyes open but not seeing her. 

When she reached for him, he flinched away only to raise his head again as if leaning into a touch she couldn’t see. He was still muttering in what was clearly a language and she didn’t know what to do. She’d come over intending to help, but had no idea how. She knew that you didn’t wake sleepwalkers, but was that what was going on? _Touch him_ a small voice within her whispered and she found that she couldn’t question it. Her hand moved almost of it’s own volition and stroked along his cheek, chasing tears into the full beard that was replacing his usual artful scruff. He pressed into her touch, a small whimper leaving him, his warm breath ghosting over her hand. She brought her left hand up, ignoring the twinge as she moved her thumb, and stroked his right cheek as well, whispering words of comfort as she brushed away more crystalline tears. 

The sobs had stobbed, but she could still see smaller shudders running along his frame and could see the muscles in his back and shoulders quivering. It occurred to her that the most useful thing that she could do was find a way to ease his suspension. Promising to come back, she withdrew her hands, almost returning them at his noise of protest but knowing that the chair from the table would do more for him long term than her continued petting. She winced as it bumped into his leg, hoping she hadn’t hurt him but he didn’t flinch. Instead, his eyes opened slowly, landing on her with his expression morphing into confusion as if he had expected someone else. 

“Need a hand?” she asked with a small smile. His expression only became more confused. He blinked owlishly looking from her face to the chair and back before what she said processed. 

“That . . . that is a chair,” he said slowly, tasting the words almost as if he was uncertain of the language. 

“It is,” she said equally slowly, waiting for him to return to full function after that, whatever it was. “For you to stand on. To help with the whole being tied up thing.” His head tipped to the side and she wondered if that little voice hadn’t been entirely wrong about waking him being the right thing to do.

“By standing on it, you can take some of the pressure off your wings and back,” she explained. Understanding seemed to dawn and he shook his head and rubbed his face, seeming surprised to feel the tears there. 

“That would probably help,” he said, offering her a smile. “You’re full of brilliant ideas, aren’t you, Detective?” 

“Do you need a hand,” she asked again, rolling her eyes at his return to flattery. She could see that he was about to wave off her help before he reconsidered. 

“That would be lovely,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and using it to steady himself as he climbed onto the wooden chair. She couldn’t help the laugh that rose up her throat at the image of him standing there, arms wide, with bunched up wings and a cable while on a chair. 

“I’m glad that you find my plight amusing,” he said, attempting to glare at her, an effort ruined by the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“It’s just . . . you look,” she trailed off not wanting to offend him but deciding he might find it amusing. “Hear me out. So, when I was a kid, Grandma always made me go to church with her on Christmas. And there was always this pageant. And some poor kid always had to play the angel that came to the shepherds. He would always get put on a chair with a rope around his waist in case he fell and half furled wings strapped to his shoulders. It just . . . you reminded me of that . . . and . . . it’s stupid.” she trailed off as he watched her with an inscrutable expression.

“I remind you of some poor child being forced to impersonate my pompous brother?” his tone was just as unreadable. 

“Y-yes?” she said slowly. “I’m sorry. You’re offended aren’t you?” 

“On the contrary,” he said, a smile breaking through. “I’m amused. Gabriel really can be a prat. Serves him right to be portrayed by a snot-nosed miscreant. I wonder if he knows? I wish I could be the one to tell him if he doesn’t.”

“So does that mean the whole . . . you know, Jesus thing was real?” Chloe asked, wondering if she needed to rethink her position on religion along with her newfound theism. 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer said with a shrug. “I was in Hell during that time. True, I popped up for a execution or two, the Romans and their contemporaries did have some very good ideas for torture, you know. But I wasn’t a presence at the time like I am now. And even now I’m not omniscient. I only really know what is going on where I am or where my informants are. Now, Caligula, Caligula was fun. Poor chap gets too much bad press. And did he ever know how to throw an orgy.” Chloe nodded, trying to wrap her head around the fact that the being in front of her not only knew but had probably slept with Caligula. And she'd slept with him. She'd indirectly slept with Caligula. And about half of LA. And probably most of Vegas. It was a good thing he was immune to STDs.


	13. Deals and Sacrifices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter needs a bit of a TRIGGER WARNING. There are some non-con elements in this chapter. Even though there is technically consent, it is very dubious consent. Nothing happens but it does come close and there is some definite angst over the decision. This is as close to dub con or non-con as it gets. No actual rape happens here or anywhere in this fic. But if dub-con is something that will trouble you, skip the chapter and drop to the bottom for a synopsis of the chapter minus the angst and the descriptions. Despite the content, or actually because of it, this is actually a rather big chapter for the characters.
> 
> Also, this chapter was edited on 4-4-2020 to fix a rather glaring motivation error and vagueness pointed out by Lucyweston. My sincerest thanks for the suggestion that sex alone was a poor motive for Cain. And my apologies for lazy character development. This has (hopefully) been resolved.

With the chair to stand on, Lucifer was decidedly more comfortable than he had been. Even so, there was no way for him to sleep suspended as he was. Despite his assurances that it was fine and she needed her sleep, Chloe tried to stay awake with him, trading stories to keep their minds off the ticking timebomb of Cain's visit. Eventually she lost the battle with her eyelids leaning against the headboard of the bed and drifting to sleep. Lucifer watched as the stress bled from her face, the tension around her mouth and eyes fading. She looked so peaceful and innocent in sleep that he knew, if Cain killed her she would go to Heaven. It broke his heart to know that he would never see her again but it hurt less than imagining her in Hell. Especially when he was trapped on Earth.

 _Please, Azrael, if he kills her she can't go to Hell,_ he prayed, hoping that his sister was listening _. Anything that you want from me is yours. Name your price, Sister._ There was no answer but he hadn't expected one. Knowing that any moment could be the last, he welcomed the discomfort as a way to stave off sleep. He would not spend the little time she had left sleeping. Not when he could ensure that at least one of his last memories of her was of her peaceful, sleeping face. He committed the soft sounds of her sleep to his memory, praying that when Cain arrived he was merciful and her end was a quick one. Even though he knew that like all his other prayers this one would go unanswered.

* * *

While it was difficult to keep track of time in a windowless bunker with no clock and unchanging lights, they knew that it had been at least a day since their failed attempt when there was finally a sound at the door. Lucifer's heart constricted as images of Chloe, tied just out of reach and slowly dying assailed him. Disemboweled or gut-shot or exsanguinating. Crucified, her broken body suffering for days before expiring. All the most grisly deaths he'd seen danced through his mind, each body replaced by hers, her pain-filled blue eyes accusing him. He knew that he couldn't let that happen yet knew that there was likely nothing he could do to stop it. But he had to try. 

“Stay by me,” Lucifer commanded, his mask of cool indifference falling back into place as he stood to his full height. “I may be bound but they still fear me.” She looked at him doubtfully, having seen for herself just how little movement he was capable of at the moment but unwilling to call him out in case they were listening.

“Detective, Chloe, _please,"_ he was begging, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not if it saved her. "For once just _listen._ Don't interfere. They can't hurt me, not really. Please, stay near me but out of their way.” She hummed but said nothing. Despite what he was saying, she had no intention of standing by while they tortured him and tied her up to threaten so that he allowed it again. She wouldn't be their leverage to hurt him. Not this time.

As the door swung open and Marcus and his men came through it, Chloe stepped in front of Lucifer, just out of reach of his hands. Adrenaline flooded through her at the sight of seven men, each with weapons while she stood there with nothing but she tried to regulate her expression and convey her unwillingness to stand aside. Apparently it worked. Marcus’ expression of furry changed to one of irritation as he took in her stance.

“Not this again,” he grumbled. “Move, Decker. My quarrel is with Lucifer. Or don't. I will go through you if I have to."

“Once again, I agree with the fratricidal git,” Lucifer added, attempting to nudge her with a hand and finding she was just out of range. “Move, Chloe. Don’t get in the way.” He could feel himself beginning to panic as she stood resolutely between them. Why didn't she understand that this wasn't like the last times? Hadn’t she figured out that to Cain she was expandable now? He no longer needed her. Cain no longer needed to honor their deal. She could be killed and Lucifer couldn't protect her and he couldn't escape once she was dead. Her death would accomplish nothing.

“Not this time,” she said softly, not turning to face him opting to keep Marcus and his men in her line of sight. “I can’t do it again, Lucifer. I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me. I won’t ask it of you and I won’t let you offer. I _won't_ stand by and let them hurt you. Don't ask me to." 

“How do you plan to stop us, Decker?” Marcus scoffed. “There’s one of you and seven of us. Hell, I don’t even think you could stop just me.” 

“What about a deal?" she said, hoping her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “You against me. I win, we walk out of here.”

“And if I win you stay?” Cain laughed. “ _Why_ would I take that? I have the men here to subdue _both_ of you. Not that that's necessary. Lucifer is already as useless as a kitten. I saw the videos. He can’t even get on a chair by himself. And he can’t get free. I watched him try. So I can just restrain you, do what I wish to him and leave. What do you have to offer that I don’t already have?” She had thought about it and knew there was only one thing she had that he might want, something that wasn't Lucifer's to give. She'd always known that it could come to this. Maybe it would be enough if she could get herself to offer it. It wasn't like she hadn't offered it to him before. But after everything she had learned and seen, the idea repulsed her to the point of physical nausea. 

She glanced at Lucifer, seeing his pain and weariness. She remembered what he'd been like when he hadn't slept. She didn't know how long it would take him to go crazy, but she knew that he would. She also knew that she could win, but maybe she could tempt him enough to make captivity more bearable. The light glinted off of one of the grommets in Lucifer's wing, another reminder of what he had endured for her sake. She knew that if there was even a chance Marcus would accept she had to offer. And she knew she would have to deliver on the offer. She couldn't beat him. It would be uncomfortable and unpleasant but it wouldn't be the first time she'd slept with him and it wouldn't kill her. Lucifer had to sleep eventually. She had to offer herself to Marcus.

Despite her conviction, it was almost impossible to force the words out. She swallowed and drew a shaky breath, on the cusp of withdrawing her offer. Another glance at Lucifer fortified her. With another deep breath, she forced out one word, “Me.”

“Chloe, no,” Lucifer said, she heard the cable creak as he tried harder to reach for her before giving up with a groan. “I’m not worth it. Don’t do this. I'm invulnerable. They _can't_ hurt me. Not physically. You can't win. Don't do this."

_They have Maze's knife, Lucifer,_ she thought knowing that he would hear her given how he'd responded to other thoughts she'd directed at him. _They could either hurt you, or just kill you. We haven't exactly been easy to keep trapped. They may have decided that we're more trouble than we're worth. Now shut up and let me think. I can't leave him any loophole. He's sneakier than you._ She heard his frustrated growl and knew that her message had been received and he hadn't appreciated it but he, thankfully, stopped interfering and let her try to focus on Cain.

“You?” Marcus asked, looking disinterested at her before his eyes flicked to Lucifer and lit with interest. She knew that she had found her bargaining chip. “What do you mean? I already have you as my prisoner. How else do I get you?”

“I mean that if I win, you free us,” she said, wishing her heart would slow down in her chest so that she could breathe and that her hands would stop shaking. “We go home, you get away and we don’t hunt you.”

“Would he honor your deal?” Marcus asked, nudging his chin at Lucifer. He didn't doubt that he could evade the LAPD but Lucifer and his minions were another matter entirely. He held no illusions that he could outrun a hellhound. Not that it mattered; she couldn't win. But on the off-chance she did, he needed to know.

“I would,” Lucifer agreed, his voice so icy it made her flinch. “If that is the price of our freedom, neither I nor any of my associates will hunt you.”

“And if I win?” Cain insisted, wondering if she had more to offer or just herself. While she hadn't been a bad lay and it would piss off Lucifer at no real risk, it wasn't much of an offer.

“You get the use of my body for one hour,” she said, feeling as if she was signing her own death warrant. “However you want me. Just the once and you consider it the punishment for our attempt to escape.” 

“And you’ll agree to this?” Marcus asked, knowing that Chloe couldn't possibly win in a fight against him and couldn't possibly believe that she would. She had to have an ulterior motive. And he knew it wasn't that she wanted to sleep with him. There had to be some way that she thought she could win by losing.

“On one condition; you untie Lucifer,” she said firmly. “This is inhumane. If I lose, you get me, and you untie Lucifer."

"I don't think so," he said simply. "You see, there is nothing in that for me. Either way, you win. Either you both go free or Lucifer does. And all I get is an hour of sex? I could have that anyway, Chloe. As I said, there's seven of us, one of you and a useless declawed kitten of a Devil. In your deal he gets his claws back. What's in it for me?"

She swallowed glancing at Lucifer in apology before saying, "if I win, we go free. We don't hunt you and you don't hunt us. If you ... if you win, you get my body for one hour, Lucifer is untied and ... and ... and we quit attempting to escape. We remain your prisoners as long as you want.” She couldn't stop her sob at what she was giving up, all chance of freedom but their odds of escape with Lucifer strung up were zero anyway. At least this way he had some freedom. They could be semi-happy. And this way there was the infinitesimal chance she could win. 

"Chloe, no," Lucifer breathed, horrified. "It's not worth it. I'm not worth it. Don't agree to this."

Marcus closed his eyes, thinking about it. As much fun as watching Lucifer struggle was, it would get old. Especially if he went insane. An insane Lucifer was a dangerous Lucifer. The easy sex was a perk but the best was the promise of no further trouble with escape attempts. _That_ was appealing. Lucifer caged forever at his whim, feathers ripe for the plucking. There was only one hiccup; it was only Chloe promising that the escapes would stop. 

“Will you also honor her no escaping clause?” Cain asked, looking at Lucifer. The Devil nodded, looking more than a little green, knowing how this was going to end. Much like Cain he knew Chloe couldn't win. And he now knew why she even offered. She knew Cain wanted them to stay caged more than he wanted to keep Lucifer tied up. And offering herself as an added temptation to sweeten the deal, knowing that Cain would likely accept if only to hurt him. Especially since both things would hurt the Devil, and that knowing she sacrificed herself for him would probably hurt more. She was trading herself and her future for his relative freedom and comfort, no one else had ever come close to such a display, and part of him hated it.

“I have a clause of my own,” Cain countered. “You win, you and Lucifer go free and neither of you hunt me and I don't hunt you.” Chloe nodded. “I win, I get you for an hour, Lucifer gets untied, you stop escaping _and_ he can’t heal any wounds you sustain in this exercise in futility. If this is to be the punishment I want it to be one you both remember. Deal?”

“No weapons?” Chloe clarified, knowing that she had none and wanting them to be on as level a field as possible. She also knew that while he could do some damage with his fists, he could do far more with a weapon. 

“No weapons,” he agreed. 

“Deal,” she said. Cain looked at Lucifer expectantly, needing him to agree to the terms as well if they were to be binding, since he was part of the equation. 

“Deal,” Lucifer snarled, fisting his hands in his hair with a growl as he bristled under what he had just allowed her to condemn herself to. While it was her choice and her terms, he knew that if he hadn't agreed, Cain wouldn't have either. He could have chosen to refuse and spared her what was to come, but he had seen in her eyes that she knew what she was agreeing to and would not take her choice from her. Not even to protect her. 

“Let’s go, Decker,” Marcus said, moving towards the center of the room. Chloe shook her head, standing her ground. 

“Free Lucifer first,” she countered. “No matter how this ends, he gets freed from the cable. It may as well happen now.” 

“No interference,” Marcus said, turning to Lucifer who’s very body radiated malice with his displeasure at what they all knew was going to happen. The Devil wasn't known for his impulse control and with him bound he felt safer.

“I will remain out of this conflict,” Lucifer agreed, the words sounding as though they'd been ripped from his soul. With a jerk of Cain's head, Levi stepped out of the room and came back with a massive set of bolt cutters, clipping the cable at the weld and pulling it free with an awful grating sound. Instantly, Lucifer let out an absolutely sinful moan as his wings were allowed to stretch to their fullest extent for the first time in nearly a week. With a contented sigh he folded them fully before rolling his shoulders slightly and disappearing them from view, stepping down from the chair. 

“Thank you, Chloe,” he said softly, stepping forward to stroke her cheek with his knuckle. “But this bit of comfort is not worth the cost.” She said nothing but her expression said it all; to her it was. She squeezed his hand briefly before releasing it and stepping forward, nausea churning in her gut. With a sigh she turned back to Cain. 

“When you’re ready,” she said, swallowing heavily. Without warning he was on her. Larger and stronger, she knew that if he actually landed a solid punch it was over. But she was quicker and had more to gain from victory. She managed to drop him to a knee but when she tried to kick him in the head, he caught her leg and flipped her onto her back. She kicked him in the wrist and rolled out of the way of a punch that ended up grazing her cheek rather than breaking it. They danced around each other for a bit, her reluctance to get too close and him willing to draw out this game a bit longer. He’d been favoring his right hand so she was watching it more closely than the left. She thought she saw an opening and moved in only to feel something crash into her right side, knocking the air from her lungs and throwing her into the bedframe. As she lay gasping, trying to draw air, she could feel at least one spot popping and knew he’d at least cracked one of her ribs. She hadn’t recovered yet when he was on her, twisting her left arm up and behind her back. 

“Surrender,” he demanded. She tried to agree but she couldn’t get the air to force the word out. And then the hold tightened, his knee in the middle of her back to hold her still.

“Surrender,” he repeated. She tried to nod, but he apparently wanted to hear it and oh did she want to say it but she couldn’t get the word to form. The hold tightened again and she heard Lucifer shout, “she bloody well surrenders,” just as a crack rang out and fire shot up her arm. 

“I guess she does,” Cain said, climbing off her back and dropping her arm unceremoniously. Chloe curled instinctively into the fetal position, lying on her right side and cradling her broken arm to her chest as the tears began to fall. She only had a moment before he nudged her with a toe.

“Time to pay up, Decker,” he said.

“Surely you don’t intend to collect now!” Lucifer snapped, his tone incredulous. “Give her a moment for Dad’s sake.” 

“She didn’t specify a timeline for payment and I find I’m in the mood now,” Cain said simply. “On your feet, Decker.” With a grimace, Chloe stood, trying to brace her ribs with her elbow while supporting her arm with her hand. 

“Clothes off,” Cain ordered. Chloe looked around at the men still standing in the room before looking at him incredulously. “Clothes off,” he repeated. 

“How?” she demanded. “You broke my fucking arm.” 

“Help her,” Cain commanded looking at Lucifer who shook his head, physically stepping back to distance himself from the proceedings.

“I agreed to not interfere,” Lucifer countered. “Disrobing your rape victim is interfering and I refuse to particpate in any way with this.” 

“It’s not rape,” Cain snapped. “It was her idea and she consented.”

“You can’t give consent under duress,” Lucifer retorted. “Extorted consent makes it rape.”

“Since when does the Devil care about consent?” Levi scoffed. "You lead people to sin."

“Perhaps, but I am _all_ about free will, darling,” Lucifer purred, looking up at him. “ I only offer what people truly desire, even if they don’t know what that is themselves. Rape is anathama to my entire credo. Rape takes free will from someone in exchange for power for another. I am unequivocally against rape in all its forms."

“Whatever,” Cain sighed turning back to Chloe and eyeing her critically before deciding that removing her shirt just wasn’t worth it. “You can keep the shirt,” he said dismissively, unwilling to fight her limbs through the material. “Everyone’s seen you topless anyway. Not that there was much to see.” She knew that his entire goal was to shame her and tried not to take the words personally, but they still hurt. At one point she was going to marry this man and here he was saying that he found her inadequate to look at? 

“I think they’re lovely,” Lucifer added softly but she heard him. She offered him a small smile, fortified by his negating Marcus’ statement, even if she knew that she shouldn’t have been bothered by it in the first place. 

“That’s interfering, Lucifer,” Cain said, shaking his head. “So, I don’t need or want you topless, but the pants have to go. And since I know how much you enjoy dirty talk now, here’s the plan. I’m going to cuff your wrists to that footboard and take you from behind like the whore you are. You are going to tell Lucifer, in detail, what it feels like while I do. If you like it, if I’m hurting you, and he is going to tell me if you are lying. If you are and he admits it, I hit you with this,” he removed his belt and held it aloft. “If he refuses to call you out and I think you are,” he gestured to one of the men who lifted a cattle prod. “Do you understand?” She nodded mutely, unable to say the words that would seal her fate. 

"Okay, take your pants off and get on the bed," he ordered. "The panties can stay for a bit. Maybe one of the guys is into spanking."

"I agreed to you," she snapped, glaring at him with hatred. She'd known he wasn't just going to make it easy for her but an audience of seven. She hadn't expected that. And she certainly hadn't intended to agree to group sex.

"I didn't agree to let them watch or participate, nor did Lucifer agree to participate or watch," she snarled. "The payout was to be between you and me."

"No, you agreed that your body was mine for an hour, 'however I wanted'," he shrugged. "We never agreed I wouldn't share. Or that they wouldn't watch, or that Lucifer wouldn't play some part in your equally earned punishment. After all, he's gaining the most from this." She looked at Lucifer, hoping he would support her position, but he shook his head sadly. Cain was right, she hadn't specified. Despite her insistence that he be quiet so she could avoid leaving loopholes, those were rather large ones. 

  
"Now get on the bed. Don't make me put you there. I promise you won't like the consequences." With a shuddering sigh she released her left arm and undid her button and zipper with a shaky right hand. She shimmied out of her pants and crawled across the bed on her knees. She allowed both of her wrists to be handcuffed around the bar of the footboard, Marcus pressing the cuffs as tightly as they would go--"since you seem to be able to slip them"-- and ensuring that he hurt her badly enough that she cried out as the left was moved. Restrained again, helpless and half naked, she closed her eyes, crying softly as she waited for whatever came next. _This isn't what I thought I agreed to,_ she thought bitterly. _God, I wish I could stop this._ Despite wishing it would stop, she simultaneously wished they would just start rather than drawing it out so that it would be over. She was waiting for the first touch of flesh on hers but she wasn't expecting to feel the cool tickle of energy on her cheek or for the world to suddenly turn blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in this one, Chloe decides to try her hand at making a deal with Cain. She doesn't so much better than Lucifer did. The basic terms are that she and Cain will fight and if she wins they go free and agree not to hunt him. If he wins, he unties Lucifer, they stop trying to escape, but to get him to agree, Chloe offers the use of her body for 1 hour. Per their deal, Cain uncables Lucifer, who agrees to stay out of the fight. Needless to say, she can't beat him in a fight and everyone knows it. She's injured, she loses and as Cain is about to claim his winnings, she is encased in a cocoon of fire.


	14. A Deal Broken

It took all of Lucifer's willpower to remain out of Chloe and Cain's 'fight'. It was no more a fight than his rebellion had been a war. And no more likely to be successful. She was hopelessly outmatched by a larger, stronger, older and more ruthless opponent. Even so, she put in a good effort, actually trying on the off-chance that she got lucky. But as they'd all known, she couldn't win.

He saw the blow that felled her coming before it connected and took a half step forward to block it on instinct before remembering that this was her exercise of free will and stopping with a growl that rumbled through the ground below his feet. Levi stepped even farther out of Lucifer's reach and the Devil smiled, cruel and humorless. That man had every reason to fear him, he couldn't resist flicking his eyes away from the fight to Levi, willing his irises red while promising a painful death with his expression alone. He was pleased to see the goosflesh creep across the bastard's skin before Cain's voice drew his attention once more. 

"Surrender," he was demanding. His knee in Chloe's back and her left arm wrenched uncomfortably behind her. She seemed dazed, gasping for breath with her right elbow squeezed against her side in a way Lucifer recognized as instinctual bracing of broken ribs. Pain flickered across her face as Cain forced her arm higher, panic replacing the dazed expression as she nodded to Cain's continued demands for surrender. She couldn't seem to speak and his hold tightened again, her blue eyes flicking to Lucifer, pinning him, begging for help. 

"She bloody well surrenders," he snapped, his inability to throw Cain off her and into a cinderblock wall by his own promises giving them a slightly hysterical edge. And then there was a crack and Lucifer flinched, recognizing well the sound of breaking bone. 

"I guess she does," Cain said, rage building in Lucifer's gut, at the disinterest he showed the sobbing, injured woman at his feet. Someone he had claimed to love and planned to marry. Nausea rolled as he realized that this would likely have been her reality. He would have beat her as his wife. And despite Lucifer's assurance that it would only have happened once when she'd asked him days ago, watching them now he realized it would have happened many times. He felt rage bubble at the certainty that the bastard would have harmed the spawn as well. The need to place himself between Chloe and Cain, and the dismal future he had offered her was all encompassing and he moved forward, content that Chloe would no longer object.

At his movement, Levi backed away until his back hit the wall but Lucifer didn't spare him a glance, focused on Cain and Chloe. Cain glanced up, malice in his eyes and a sadistic smirk on his face before he nudged her with a toe, demanding repayment, despite Lucifer protests. Hot impotent anger made him quake as Chloe forced herself to her feet and argues out the specifics he wanted so desperately to stop this, but she hadn't asked and he would not take her choice from her as Cain was, loathsome as he found the entire situation. He couldn't bring himself to resist offering her verbal support when Cain began degrading her and her brief , grateful smile warmed him before cold rage flooded his veins at Cains declaration that he intended to share. 

He remembered well her ire at having been watched and recorded, her words about never again being watched without her express permission, which she had said would never be granted ringing in his ears before it was replaced by his own heartbeat, pounding through his skull. When she cried out as she was restrained, he clinched his jaw tightly enough that his teeth ached with his need to stop this, his muscles aching with the forcing the need to move to be ignored. But she still hadn't asked and while it would tear him apart to allow this, as he'd told Levi he was all about free will. If she would allow this he would as well, no matter what it made him feel. 

_This isn't what I thought I agreed to,_ her voice wafted across his mind. So terrified, bitter, and desperate that it hit him like a sledgehammer. _God, I wish I could stop this._ He wasn't sure why the prayer for someone to do something to stop it she directed at his Father was delivered to him but he intended to answer it. She'd asked him before if he couldn't or wouldn't break deals and he'd admitted it was a point of pride. But his pride had gotten them into this mess, he'd be damned again if she paid for it when he could stop this if she wanted it stopped. Grinning at the chaos he was about to cause, with a simple exhale, he encased her in a cocoon of blue-violet fire. There were exclamations of shock before Cain turned to him, livid.

" _That_ is interfering, Lucifer," he breathed, each word punctuated and sharp. Turning from Chloe to come towards him, fists balled and spine stretched tall. Lucifer smirked at his attempt to intimidate the Devil himself. Recent events had clearly made him complacent, allowed him to believe he'd tamed the Devil. It was time to prove him wrong. The raw rage morphed into satisfaction as he realized Chloe was safe, he was invulnerable and he could draw this out however long he liked. And he intended to do just that. Allow them to feel the helplessness of knowing that they couldn't win before their defeat, to feel what they had felt. He was truly going to enjoy exacting his revenge for their wrongs and punishing the guilty. 

"And?" Lucifer demanded, drawing himself up to his full height and looking at Cain like the primordial scum he was. He had to admit he was a bit impressed when the man didn't back down instantly. He'd seen demons cower under that expression. 

"That breaks the deal," Cain said simply, the first hints of doubt and fear creeping into his eyes and voice as he realized Lucifer wasn't backing down easily.

"You can't break deals," Cain said, the statement having a flavor of doubt that almost made it a question. "Keeping her from paying up breaks her deal, that you agreed to abide by. So you have to get rid of the fire."

"Don't, not can't," Lucifer said, the words clipped as Cain called him out directly on his breach of ethics. Knowing that he had to do it to be able to live with himself did not make it easier to break his own principles.

"Point of pride, actually," Lucifer continued. "Never before in all of eternity have I broken a deal. But as I said, I cannot abide rape and she has withdrawn any _invalid_ consent she had given. She prayed for this to be stopped. So, I've changed my mind and am interfering. I _will_ defend her choice to stop this. Deal or no deal."

"If you harm us," Cain started, going for menacing but coming out desperate but Lucifer cut him off with a scathing laugh. When he stopped, the room seemed a few degrees cooler. More than one of the men began moving surreptitiously towards the door as Lucifer skates his gaze across them, coming to rest back on Cain.

"You'll what? You can't threaten her safety to compel my docility. You can't get to her. She wrapped in _fire,_ in case you hadn't noticed. And I'm invulnerable," he laughed holding his arms wide, inviting them to attack. He gave a small hum of irritation before continuing, "and the dagger that Levi took from Maze that he's finally grown the bollocks to attempt to stab into my back," he paused, turning and breaking Levi's wrist before deftly catching the dagger and melting it in his hand, dropping the slag on the floor. "It's gone. What's your next move?"

"There's seven of us and one of you," Cain shrugged. "You can't win, Lucifer." 

"Darling, I'm the Devil. I can take all seven of you at the same time, without messing my hair. You can't beat me. Your weapons can't hurt me. You can't even shoot me this time. And in case you missed it, I can summon fire. Literal hellfire. How do you think you can win?"

"It's an illusion," a short reddish haired man said stepping forward. "Otherwise she'd be burned up." Lucifer waved his hand, inviting him to test his theory. The man reached for Chloe only to pull his hand back with a howl, blisters marking the skin. Lucifer tisked as the man attempted to shake off the blue flames that clung to his flesh.

"As I said, literally hellfire," Lucifer said, his tone implying that they were stupid. He turnedbsck to Cain, ignoring the frantic cries of the man's he tried and failed to shake off the hellfire climbing his arm.

"So, I propose a new deal," Lucifer said, his words cold steel. " _My_ terms. Entirely non-negotiable. You let us go free and I don't burn you all alive right now. Actually it seems rather generous to me. You might take it before I change my mind and just kill you all."

"Archangels can't--"

"Firstly, I'm not an archangel. I'm the Devil. A title I earned by refusing to follow the rules," Lucifer countered. "But, even if you're right, there's a loophole. It's the same one Uriel was going to exploit; I'm not the fire. It can kill you. Do you really want to risk your lives on the off chance that I'm wrong?"

"Will you hunt me?" Cain demanded. As if he actually had a choice in the matter.

"Oh yes," Lucifer replied, chuckling darkly. "I will take her home to her family and then I will find you and kill you. If you come after her or anyone else I care about before I find you, you will learn first hand just how _miraculous_ the abilities of my feathers are as I give you a preview of hell. And, maybe, someday I will let you die and give the demons their turn. There is no way that this ends with you living. All you get to choose is when and how painfully you all die. So, is it now or later?" Before Cain could reply, there was a clattering on the stairs and a small can rolled into the room. 

"What the bloody hell?" Lucifer asked before a stunningly bright light filled the room leaving Cain's men blind and even Lucifer a bit dazed. Seconds later there were men on the stairs rushing in. Lucifer extinguished the flames instantly and moved to shield Chloe with his body instead, wishing he could use his wings. That wish redoubled as the sound of gunfire rang out, deafening in such an enclosed space, before silence and ringing took over. Lucifer looked over and saw Cain lying in a rapidly spreading pool of his own blood. He couldn't help the cruel smile that split his face at the recognition of guilt in his eyes. He would make sure that Cain paid for this entire debacle for all eternity.

Satisfied that it was over, he reached for her handcuffs but stopped at her hiss. He looked at her prepared to apologize for hurting her only to end up rolling his eyes.

'Evidence ' she mouthed. He was about to retort when a man wearing a vest labeled Meyers, and FBI approached them. "Chloe Decker and Lucifer Morningstar?"

"Indeed," Lucifer replied, glaring coldly at the man.. "And you are?"

"Agent Meyers, FBI," he said a small smile crossing his face. "Here to rescue you." 

"We're ready to be rescued," Chloe said before Lucifer could even open his mouth. "I'm ready to go home."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Meyers said, "I think the medic may need to be your first stop. And . . . this is … do we. . .need a kit?" Chloe shook her head, looking sick.

"It didn't get that far," she said leaning her head against his shoulder and smiling at the Devil. "Lucifer stopped them."

"Brave man," Meyers commended. "Are you hurt?" Lucifer shook his head before holding up his wrists, both of which were red and raw. 

"Just a bit burned," he promised. "Nothing that won't heal quickly." Chloe looked at him in confusion, his wrists hadn't been bound. How had he gotten rope burn? He smirked and a small flame jumped between his fingers. 'Evidence,' he mouthed. She rolled her eyes before resting her head on her good shoulder and trying to get comfortable. 

"Can someone uncuff her, please," Lucifer demanded, his fingers itching to break or unlock the cuffs, only restraining himself because she willed it.

"Sorry, Sir," Meyers said. "She's not in immediate danger so scene photos come first. It's policy." He looked prepared to make a scene until Chloe spoke.

"He's right," she said softly. "I'm safe so photos first then freedom. They have to be able to justify lethal force. This justifies it. Please be quick."

"Pierce have the key?" Chloe nodded and Meyers bent and dug through his pockets to retrieve it. "As soon as they're done," he promised. Chloe nodded and tried to pretend she was anywhere else doing anything else as the FBI scene techs took photos of her cuffed to a bed in her underwear. Despite her words to the contrary, she knew how this looked. When they were done and she was free, Lucifer moved to help her into her pants only to be stopped by Agent Meyers. 

"Are you sure you don't need a kit?" He asked softly. "It is standard practice in a kidnapping. "

"They didn't get that far," she repeated. "I promise." He searched her face a minute before nodding. "In that case go on up. We'll get the scene processed while you give your account to an agent up top and then we'll get you home." She nodded, eyeing the stairs with trepidation. Her already throbbing ribs ached at the idea.

"Can I carry you?" Lucifer asked, his hand on her good shoulder.

"I don't know," Chloe said, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips. "Can you?" He gave a short laugh before lifting her gently into his arms. 

"Like a baby," he whispered. "I suppose I should have said may I. I was asking permission not questioning my abilities. Your lazy American English is rubbing off on me." She snorted but said nothing, knowing he was setting her up for a dirty pun. They had only climbed a couple of steps when they heard one of the agents exclaim.

"Jesus, what could Pierce have possibly needed that cable for? It looks like it could hold an elephant." 

"Or the Devil?" Chloe asked softly knowing Lucifer would hear. "What are we going to tell them?"

"The truth, darling," Lucifer purred. "Minus the part about me having giant glowing wings that they skewered because Cain wanted my healing feathers."

"So, you're going to make something up?" She asked. 

"I will skirt the truth and embellish a bit," he replied. And then they were in the sun, painfully bright after so long in the artificial light of the bunker. He set her on her feet and was leading her towards the medical truck when they heard an excited squeal and turned to see Ella rushing towards them. 

"Oh, God!" She exclaimed, arms wide for a hug. "Maze's tip was right. You're both here and alive and" she tried to catch them in a hug, but was stopped by Lucifer's hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, it is a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Lopez," he said, offering her a stunning smile. "However, the Detective is injured and I am in dire need of a bath prior to cuddling. Perhaps something more subdued?" She nodded, pressing her forehead gently to Chloe's as she began to cry.

"I was so worried that I'd never see you guys again," she whispered. "I figured you were dead. I mean, I knew you were alive a few days ago at the warehouse but… After 48 hours. . ."

"Nonsense," Lucifer said, patting her back firmly. "It takes more than this to kill the Devil or those he guards."

"God, you don't break character for anything, do you?" She asked, grinning up at him before her expression became serious. "Is that because it's not an act?"

"Did you say Maze led you here?" Chloe asked, wondering if she had heard her correctly. And trying to change the subject before Lucifer answered Ella in front of the FBI. "Lucifer had seemed fairly certain that she was dead." She didn't miss the hopeful glint in his eyes or the smug expression that said he knew just why she'd changed the subject. 

"Well, not literally because she's pretty banged up, but yeah. A couple days ago she just randomly texted me an image of a map with a dot saying "they're here". I showed it to the FBI agent on your case and here we are."

"Speaking of, while I do enjoy your company and believe your skills to be superior, they have their own forensic technicians," Lucifer said. "Why are you here?"

"Because I know you both but am not next of kin," she said, her expression dropping. "They weren't sure if … if you'd be … and figured if you weren't then I could identify you without compromising the OP. But hey, you are and I wasn't needed and … and."

"We're fine," he offered. "Or soon will be," he amended looking at Chloe's pinched face. "However, we do need to get to the medic where, perhaps they will have some good drugs to offer us. Sadly, our captors were _decidedly_ stingy. Why couldn't we have gotten kidnapped by people who attempted to keep us drugged 24/7? Maybe next time?"

"There better not be a next time," Chloe sighed, shaking her head at his antics and recognizing the mask for what it was. "I wouldn't say no to drugs right now though." 

"Naughty naughty, Detective," he scolded, the attempt at teasing falling flat for both of them. "Turns out I am a bad influence after all." She didn't reply but did allow him to take her good elbow and escort her to the medic.

He had to hand it to the FBI; they came prepared. The medics were more like a mobile hospital, complete with portable Xrays and the good drugs. Chloe sat silently through all of it, allowing them to poke and prod, photograph and wrap with little more than a grimace and a whimper of protest. Lucifer was a bit more dramatic, protesting as they scrubbed his self-inflicted burns and coated them in ointment before wrapping them. It was worth it to see her knowing smile. As soon as they were done with him, he demanded a phone. Dialing a number he could barely believe he knew. It was answered almost before the first ring, as if he'd been waiting for it to sound.

"Detective Douche," he purred. "How are you?" He didn't miss the hopeful and exasperated look Chloe gave him and offered her a smile.

"Lucifer, oh man, I never thought I'd be happy to hear your voice," Dan replied, relief evident even though the phone. "Is Chloe…"

"Alive? Yes," Lucifer said. "And sitting right here glaring at me to tell me to play nice."

"Oh God, I can't believe you all are alive," Dan breathed. "We hoped but then they found the blood and the bullets and Ella said you were but… oh, God. You're alive. I can't wait to tell Trixie."

"That is actually who I wish to speak with," he said suddenly. "Or, rather who Chloe wishes to speak with. Can you fetch her?"

"She's not a thing, Lucifer," Dan grumbled, but he could be heard moving through the house hopefully towards the spawn. Lucifer moved too, from his chair to her cot. He heard Dan telling her there was a phone call and heard her small voice say "hello?" As he handed the phone wordlessly to Chloe. She started crying as her daughter repeated the word. It took a third try before Chloe could respond.

"Hi, baby," she managed, tears falling as she spoke to her daughter, who she had almost given up on seeing ever again. The girl's excited squeal of "Mommy!" caused yet more tears and Lucifer sat beside her as she reassured her daughter and promised to see her soon feeling as though he was witnessing something he was not supposed to be and unable to leave for fear of destroying the moment.

"Thank you," she said as she handed him back the phone. "I can't tell you how much that meant to me."

"For once I knew exactly what you desired," he smiled, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "It was my pleasure to give it to you."


	15. All Cards on the Table

Wounds treated, it was time for them to give their statement. They tried to separate them but Chloe feigned separation anxiety. At least she hoped it was feigned--she decided she might need to see if Linda could schedule her a session-- and they were allowed to stay together. Despite her assurances otherwise, the FBI saw her as a trauma and sexual assault victim and she planned to use that. Especially since she had no idea what story Lucifer had concocted and they would need to be on the same page. She sat mostly silent as Lucifer spun a tale where Pierce had wanted to expand his Sinnerman network using Lucifer's contacts. 

"He wanted something I alone could provide," Lucifer explained. He went on to tell of how they had made a deal to come quietly if Pierce didn't kill Chloe. 

"What about the blood and feather fragments the LAPD found?" the agent asked.

"I didn't notice any feathers fragments" Chloe lied, knowing Lucifer couldn't. "Marcus must have put them there to confuse you."

"What about all of the ammo casings?" He asked.

"Do either of us look shot?" Lucifer replied, raising an eyebrow. The agent shook his head and Lucifer proceeded to tell of how they had been moved to a warehouse where they were held for a time and Pierce had killed two of his people who had second thoughts about holding an LAPD detective and someone as high profile as Lucifer hostage. 

"Where did the pile of bullets come from?" He asked. Chloe had a brief flash of Lucifer crying out as she dug bullets from his wings but tamped it down.

"Marcus brought them as a threat," she said. "A warning of what would happen if we weren't good. Said each bullet represented someone he'd killed and that he'd put that many in each of us if we tried to escape." The man nodded satisfied and Lucifer continued to tell about being moved the second time and how they had attempted to escape when the door was unlocked.

"We were recaptured and they strung me up by my wi- upper extremities," he explained. "Chloe challenged Pierce to single combat to protect me from repercussions. She lost. I defended her virtue and you nice chaps arrived and freed us." 

"How did Pierce's man burn his hand?"

"Stuck it somewhere it didn't belong," Lucifer replied without missing a beat. The agent nodded a moment before he laughed.

"That is a very nice story," he said. "and the one you need to stick to if anyone else asks."

"Pardon me?" Lucifer asked, his eyebrow nearly hitting his hairline. "It's the truth."

"A _very_ heavily edited version," the agent replied. "Do you know why we're here?"

"Because Pierce kidnapped us?" Chloe offered, hoping that was the answer but knowing by the sinking feeling in her gut that it wasn't. 

"Yes, but why the FBI?" 

"I assumed because we'd crossed state lines," Chloe said. 

"No, ma'am," he laughed. "We're still in California. And while I am FBI, I'm a special division."

"Oh, like the Xfiles?" Lucifer asked, his attention piqued. Actually leaning forward a bit to study the Agent a but better.

"That's not a good thing, Lucifer," Chloe hissed, her stomach churning with the realization that they may only have traded one cage for another. Lucifer wouldn't allow it a second time, would he? She knew with certainty that the answer was no, if he had a choice.

"Kind of but no. Do you know why we were called out?"

"Because my crazy consultant claims he's the Devil," Chloe said dismissively, hating that a week ago, _she'd_ thought Lucifer was a crazy, damaged man. The man shook his head and pushed a surveillance photo of Lucifer, wings spread wide about to cover Chloe in the rotunda across the table. She froze, both at the memory--Lucifer screaming as bullets tore through his flesh--and the realization that they knew. And if they knew they would want him to experiment on and she wouldn't see him again and she could feel panic clawing at her at the idea that they really had been rescued only to be trapped again. The next picture was her and Lucifer in the cage as she plucked bullets from his wings, a large pile already beside her. A series of images on one sheet, her bruised throat after Marcus had tried to kill her, a white picture, her healed all with Lucifer's wings on full display. An image of them in bed together, she didn't remember using the base of his wing as leverage but clearly she had. Him suspended by his wings, a fuzzy figure of light beside him. Lucifer seemed particularly affected by that one, reaching for it and looking at it in confusion, his long fingers ghosting over the fuzzy figure before a small smile formed on his lips. She couldn't remember that happening but didn't have time to ask him about it before the final image, her encased in fire unharmed while Pierce's man was burning. 

There wasn't enough air in the tent. She couldn't breathe. They couldn't explain away that many pictures and the government was going to want … they couldn't be locked up again not when they'd just gotten free. She'd just told Trixie she was coming home. She couldn't go back in a cage. Not again. She jumped at a touch on her arm prepared to try to put up some token fight, but relaxed as soon as she registered that it was Lucifer. He extended his other hand and she didn't resist as Lucifer pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, prepared to make a rapid escape if necessary. No matter what it took, they _were_ going home.

"How long have you known?" Lucifer asked, all evidence of the bubbly silly consultant from moments before gone, replaced by a calm, commanding Devil. 

"Almost since you arrived in LA," Agent Anders replied, a small smile gracing his cragged face. "You weren't exactly subtle. No identity older than your arrival in LA. Extravagant favors that never failed, a demon bartender, mysterious breaks with reality of suspects, multiple instances of acting as if you're invincible, bending solid metal on camera, bringing cures back from the minds of the deceased, opening dimensional gateways on crowded beaches, not to mention openly declaring that you are the Devil to anyone who will listen. You are many things, Mr. Morningstar, subtle isn't one of them."

"So you know," Lucifer said with a shrug, leaning forward slightly, inhibited from fully invading the man's space by the injured body he cradled, and capturing the Agent's gaze, fixing him with a seductive smile. "But what is it you desire?"

"Mr. Morningstar," Anders said briskly. "Your abilities won't work on me. Being mind blind is part of getting this job."

"Of course you're a difficult one," Lucifer grumbled, settling back into his chair with a huff. "So what do you want? If it is to study me, I will not allow it. I am the Devil, not a Guinea pig. I am not a science experiment or the cure for anything. The world is not ready for definitive proof of divinity and I will not offer it. And in case you are thinking of following Cain's example, the game has changed since Cain shot me the first time. It won't work again and I _will_ _not_ go quietly. You nor any of your people would survive the attempt."

"There is no need for hostility. We only want a few answers," Agent Anders replied, holding his hands up in a pacifying gesture even as every hair on his body stood at the aura of threat radiating from the Devil. Lucifer eyed him carefully, clearly studying him and making no effort to hide it. After a very long moment where Anders felt entirely too exposed despite his clothing and bulletproof vest, the sensation lifted and Lucifer nodded.

"I will allow you to ask," he said finally. With his pronouncement, the air seemed to warm again and Anders released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "However, I do not promise answers."

"Thank you, Mr. Morningstar," Anders replied, meaning it. Had Lucifer refused, he held no illusion that he would have been able to compel the Devil to answer. Lucifer nodded, his expression indulgent. Anders swallowed before beginning his list of questions.

"Are you a risk to national security?"

"No," Lucifer snorted. "I couldn't care less about this nation or any other. They rise and fall in the blink of an eye and they are all the same, corrupt things at their core no matter their ideological initiations." 

"Who do you work for?"

"Me," he replied with a grin that wasn't entirely pleasant. "One of the perks of being a ruler and entrepreneur. I work for myself. And no, I don't want souls. What would I do with the things? No, I'm not here to lead humanity to Hell. For Dad's sake, I don't even want to be there. And no, you don't have to worry that we've created the antichrist. Humanity and I are genetically incompatible. And no, you may not see my wings. Do you have any other questions or may we leave so that I can reunite this poor woman with her offspring?"

"Just one and then you're free to go," Anders said and Lucifer snorted in amusement that this human thought he could contain him if he didn't allow it, "what's your business on Earth."

"I'm vacationing," Lucifer said, his tone implying that he had missed something simple. "LA, Vegas, cities that never sleep full of people that never sleep. All the booze and pleasures that money can buy. Decadent food, drugs, women, men as well. There isn't much pleasure in Hell, as you can imagine. Even for its king. And at my core, I am all about pleasure and fulfilling the hidden desires of others and encouraging them to explore the full boundaries of free will and, well, sin if you like."

"You're here on a pleasure trip," Anders said slowly, "and working for the LAPD?"

"Not working. Consulting," Lucifer clarified. "They don't pay me, not that I would consider what they offer fair compensation. I've seen the Detective's paychecks. And this isn't the first time I've been shot. Or that she has for that matter. Anyway, I'm _consulting_ for them because I got bored, didn't I? There are only so many orgies that one can attend before they become tiresome. Even the particularly kinky ones, you know." The look Anders gave him suggested that he had no idea what Lucifer was talking about. "I'll arrange one for you. Humans only. My treat. Just … don't mention that you're FBI. Kinda harshes the buzz. Or maybe I could find people that would turn on."

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Morningstar," Anders assured him, a blush creeping up his neck. "I have no need of an orgy. And you and Detective Decker are free to go." Lucifer nodded, moving to stand before pausing and looking down at the woman in his lap with the first gentle expression Anders had seen.

"Do you want to walk or would you prefer I carry you?" He asked, giving her a soft smile.

"I'll walk," she said quietly. "But can you … nevermind. I'll walk. I'm fine. Everything's fine." She wanted to ask him to keep his arm around her. She wasn't sure that she trusted the FBI not to try something to make Lucifer more docile, not that she thought it would work but she couldn't take any more confrontations today. But she swallowed down the request, refusing to come off as needy. They were free, it was over and she hadn't even been this clingy when their lives were literally at stake. _Pull it together, Chloe_ , she thought bitterly as she scrambled to get off his lap, grimacing as the move pulled at her ribs. 

"This is ridiculous, Detective," Lucifer snapped. There was a flash of white and an impression of giant wings before they were gone leaving him holding a single feather.

"Lucifer," she hissed, warning him with her eyes as she nodded towards Agent Anders who was staring at Lucifer with a faint awestruck look on his face. 

"He'll be fine, Chloe," Lucifer laughed. "He didn't even get a full peek. Besides, it's not like he didn't already know." She sighed rubbing her forehead where she could feel a headache beginning to build. "They know, Chloe. And they know what the feathers can do. They also know that they can't use me that way, don't you?" The threat was clear in his words and snapped Anders out of the semi-trance he'd been in.

"I … uh… yes, we know and we wouldn't and …"

"See, it's all worked out," Lucifer replied. "Please, Chloe. Let me do this for you. Especially since we both know what you were going to do for me." She couldn't find a reason that she should refuse him. She _wanted_ him to do it, she was tired of hurting but she was also reluctant to allow Agent Anders to witness it. She shot the agent a worried glance.

"They already have it on tape, Chloe," Lucifer offered, his voice sultry and tempting. And oh, did she want to give in and take what he offered. There was just one thing left to stop her.

"The evidence," she whispered, knowing as she did that it was a weak excuse. "We'd be destroying evidence. Again."

"It is all on film," Lucifer repeated, his tone still seductive in the promise of rest and comfort. "They've got photographs and x-rays too. They no longer need you injured. Do you?" He turned to Anders on that last question and the man shook his head.

"We don't," Anders agreed, wondering why he was so quick to say what Lucifer wanted him to even if it was the truth. "we've got all the documentation we need."

"See," Lucifer purred, his brown eyes boreing into hers. "Won't you allow me to do this for you, Chloe?" She found that she couldn't refuse now that all of her arguments had been answered.

"Please," she breathed, stepping forward and closing her eyes. 

"Thank you," he whispered, the words almost reverent as if she was the one offering him miracles. His lips pressed to hers gently, his beard scratching her chin and his left arm coming around her waist supporting her as the feather and his right fingers brushed the bruise on her cheek. First was the sensation of down and the warmth of his fingers, then the heat began to spread from the feather again. Where the first time it had been an intense but comfortable heat, as the warmth reached her left shoulder and right ribs in intensified to narrow bands of fire, the bones grinding together to the perfect alignment before, with a flash of pain that left her panting, they mended. The warmth then moved on down her body flaring at small bruises before dissipating entirely. Even though it left her with the same acheless feeling as before, the memory of the pain was still there and she left her head where it had pressed into his collarbone and allowed herself to release her pent up emotions as tears.

"I'm sorry, love," he muttered into her hair. "I forgot the toll larger injuries take to heal." She shifted from clinging to him to a more natural hug, shifting her head to look up at him.

"I'm okay," she whispered, offering him a wet smile. "This is much better. Thank you. I … I'm just …"

"Tired?" He supplied with a knowing smile. "Big jobs like that don't just draw on my reserves. You have to contribute too. It's only natural to need sleep. Rest if you wish. No harm will come to you, I promise." She nodded, humming contentedly and leaning into him more fully. She felt more than heard his amused chuckle as the earth shifted and he was lifting her again.

"So, I guess you won't be walking, then?" he said, his tone amused. But she was already nearly asleep, a slight hum her only answer. 

"So, what's the plan, FBI man?" Lucifer asked, turning back to Anders as if none of that had just happened. "Will you be arranging transportation back to LA or am I supposed to, well you know."

"Can you?" Anders asked, fighting the urge to cover his mouth for blurting out a question without his consent.

"What is it with you lot and being surprised that they aren't purely decorative?" Lucifer laughed, offering the man a genuine smile. "Of course I can fly. One of the few perks of the feathery menaces. So am I, flying that is? Or do you intend to drive us home?"

"You'll be riding home with Ms. Lopez. She drove thinking that you both might prefer the comfort of someone you knew," he said. "Speaking of Ms. Lopez, I am afraid she was right about you and I owe her some money."

"Indeed?" Lucifer asked, grinning widely. "And just what did Ms. Lopez say about me?"

"That you ooze sex appeal and that if I met you face-to-face I would want …" he trailed off, a blush creeping into his ears. That made Lucifer laugh in earnest, a happy sound that he hadn't needed in a while.

"Sorry, darling, but the Detective and I haven't yet worked out the boundaries of our own sexual relationship," Lucifer said, his eyes alight with an emotion Anders couldn't place."When we do if it is an open one, I'll give you a ring. I've never had sex with an FBI agent. Might be fun." Anders looked at him aghast.

"No … you don't… I can't… you don't have my number," he finally settled on. 

"Don't I?" Lucifer asked, holding a business card that he couldn't remember giving to him aloft. "So should I keep it, or…"

"Keep it," Anders sighed. "But not for sex. You're not an experiment and I'm not a booty call. But if you need me for any paranormal stuff, just let me know. And if you will, if any more of your family shows up and could cause trouble for us, please give me a head's up."

"Agent Anders," Lucifer grinned, shifting Chloe slightly to free his right hand, "you've made your first deal with the Devil." Anders shook his head with a laugh before taking Lucifer's hand in his own.

"Feels kinda anticlimactic," he said as Lucifer readjusted Chloe once more. "I expected it would involve weather phenomena and blood oaths."

"And people say I'm dramatic," Lucifer replied, rolling his eyes. "Well, hate to deal and run but I have a Detective and a spawn to reunite. I wish I could say it was a pleasure but …"

"I know," he replied. "Good luck staying out of trouble, Lucifer." Lucifer nodded and turned towards the cars calling for Ms. Lopez to take them home, all traces of the powerful being from moments before buried under jokes, puns and innuendo. As Anders watched him fuss about needing a bath and a razor, he shook his head. No wonder none of his acquaintances knew the truth. Almost as if he knew he was being watched, which he probably did, Lucifer turned and looked at him before turning to Ms. Lopez with a smirk. Seconds later his phone vibrated with a text from Ella.

  
 _Told ya so. Cash app me._ He shook his head with a smile and watched them drive away. As they pulled into the trees, his last thought was that Devil or not, Lucifer seemed like a good guy.


	16. Conversation in Cars

They'd been going down the road for a while and were finally back on paved surfaces when Ella checked the rearview mirror to see about her silent passengers. Lucifer had laid Chloe across the seat and she had curled up on her side so that her feet touched the driver-side door and her head was pillowed on Lucifer's thigh, his fingers threaded through her hair. He looked less than comfortable with his long legs crammed in the space between the front and back seats. But when she had suggested that he might be more comfortable up front, he had politely but firmly refused to sit there. And now he was in the backseat of her car scrunched up like a sardine and shifting awkwardly with nowhere to go. Making sure the road ahead was straight and clear, Ella leaned over and grabbed the seat adjustment handle. 

"Push," she instructed. He didn't hear her, lost in contemplation about the picture of him and the figure of light. He had been certain that he had imagined his Father's touch, but now he wasn't so sure. Chloe had said that she hadn't noticed anything but the camera seemed to indicate otherwise and he wouldn't put it past his Father to mask his presence from her but forget about the gaze of technology. But that still left the more pressing question of why he had come. Why now of all times?

"Lucifer," Ella said when it was clear he hadn't heard her. It took a few more tries before he responded. Blinking owlishly, he turned to face her rather than the window. Even knowing that he was still Lucifer, the knowledge that he was The Lucifer made being caught in his gaze uncomfortable. She was glad that it was less sharp than usual.

"Pardon me?" he asked, shaking his head in attempt to banish thoughts best left for privacy. Safe or not, he hadn't intended to ignore his surroundings. 

"Push the seat forward," Ella clarified. "You look squished." Understanding dawned and he leaned forward slightly to give it a push, appreciating the extra space as the seat slid almost to the dash. 

"Thank you, Ms. Lopez," he said, stretching a bit, wishing he'd had a bit longer to walk around after being restrained for so long to stretch his legs before being confined again. Even if this confinement was of his own choosing.

"The back will lay forward if you want to prop your legs up," she offered. "It's a bit of a drive."

"Thank you but I will pass," he replied. "This is sufficient." They were silent for a moment before he asked, "So, Ms. Lopez, you asked me a question earlier. Did you wish an answer or was it rhetorical?"

"I … I don't need an answer, not really," she said with a shrug, glad that driving gave her an excuse not to look at him. "I … I'm sorry, but ... well, I ran tests on your blood. _Lots_ of tests. I know that it had to yours because it wasn't Chloe's or any other known species. Everyone else was accounted for meaning ... I know you're not human. And … and that-that you have… um… feathers. And I saw the videos. And yo-your wings. I wouldn't have invaded your privacy but it was necessary to rescue you. I'm sorry. I did destroy my lab reports and _somehow_ the samples got lost. But I'm still sorry." He was silent, studying her for a moment. Her remorse was palpable and there was no lie in her words or body language.

"I do not begrudge you the knowledge," he said eventually. "If I could choose who would be allowed to know, you would be on the list. In fact, I've told you myself but you didn't believe me. I'm glad that you know. Especially since you seem to be taking it well. I would have hated to lose someone as kindhearted as you. Do you have other questions?"

"Of course I have questions!" she gushed, turning to look at him briefly, excited that he was asking, implying that he might answer. He nodded, anticipating that would be her answer and forced a smile. Despite the smile, she shook her head noticing the weariness in his eyes and the droop in his shoulders that he was trying to hide. He would answer her, she knew that, but she could also tell he was exhausted, draining in ways she couldn't fathom.

"But they can wait.," she grinned as surprise broke through his polite mask. "You look terrible. Death-warmed-over bad even. When was the last time you slept? Though I will say that you can _totally_ work the full beard, productless look."

"You try being shot, operated on, skewered and suspended in a week and tell me how you fare," he replied, his tone a bit short at the implication that he looked unable to answer simple questions.

"I'd be dead," she assured him. "And I...I saw the tapes, Lucifer. I am so sorry Pierce did that to you. You didn't deserve it."

"It could have been worse," Lucifer replied, his tone dark as he stroked Chloe's blonde hair, her face peaceful in sleep, her warm breath permeating the material of his trousers. He could still remember the feeling of his heart stopping when she fell in the rotunda and again when she had stilled in Cain's grip as he strangled her. If he had aimed a bit higher or held on just a second longer… he savagely banished the thought, comforted by the warm pulse of life beneath his fingertips as he stroked her unbruised neck. She was alive, that was what mattered.

"He could have done so much worse," he repeated, his voice a harsh whisper as he barely resisted the urge to scoop her into his arms and hold her to remind himself that she was whole and fine. Cain was dead and they were alive and it was over. Ela didn't know what to say to that and Lucifer was disinclined to continue the conversation, lost again to his thoughts. With neither conscious party interested in conversation, the trip continued with only the radio to break the silence. 

Some time later, Ella jumped at a sound behind her and glanced in the rearview mirror, expecting to see something dire, her nerves still strung tight from being part of an FBI operation against a multinational crime syndicate and sharing a car with _the_ Devil, even if he was still the same Lucifer she had always known. _But with power,_ her mind whispered, causing her to grin at the Lion King reference. But the sound was no new calamity, just Lucifer, who was leaned against the window with his neck at an angle that she knew he would regret later, snoring. She smiled and decided that she was right; even knowing that he wasn't human didn't change anything. He was still Lucifer. The same quirky, exuberant, eccentric consultant that he'd always been. He also just happened to be the Devil. And he had giant, glowing wings. And could summon fire. And, maybe, smite people? But he was still Lucifer. And he was snoring and maybe drooling in her car. Yeah, she could live with this.

* * *

Chloe awoke uncomfortably. She tried to stretch and found that she was unable to do so, stopped by something hard at her feet. She could feel the rumble and motion of a car and instant panic flooded her at being confined in what was clearly a moving vehicle unable to move. Again. She tried to sit up but found there was a weight on her chest that she couldn’t shift. At the same second her eyes flew open, revealing the weight to be Lucifer’s arm, his name fell from her lips, tinged with primal fear. There was a second where the material under her cheek jerked, he mumbled her name, the word clouded with sleep, before his arm moved, shifting her effortlessly into a sitting position flush against him, looking around for danger with an almost feral gleam in his eyes. She looked around her panic intensifying at his protective display only to see that she was in a small passenger vehicle, unbound, sitting beside Lucifer who was also unbound and wingless. 

“Morning, Chloe,” Ella called brightly from the driver’s seat. “There for a minute I’d thought you were going to sleep all the way back to LA.”

“Ella?” she asked, blinking at her and beginning to relax, an effort helped as Lucifer practically melted into the seat, his hold losening into a more casual embrace. His free right hand coming up to stroke her cheek as he smiled at her repentant.

"I didn't mean to frighten you more, Love," he promised. "I was startled." She rested her cheek on his shoulder and smiled. 

"I startled you first," she replied tracing absent patterns on his thigh. "I just woke up and couldn't move and ... I knew our rescue had been a dream. That we were still there and ... or the FBI had ..."

"We're not and they didn't and no one ever will again," he promised, his dark eyes sincere and his voice tinged with threat. She nodded, relieved. He may have broken his word to Cain but he never would her. She knew that. 

“So … it’s really over? We’re really out? I thought I’d ... but it’s over. What happened with the FBI agent?” 

“He and I talked it over, and despite the fact that he wants me sexually and owes Ms. Lopez a hundred dollars, we parted on amicable terms,” Lucifer said with a shrug.

“He didn’t want you,” Chloe laughed, smacking his arm. “He was terrified of you. Not that you tried to help with that with your whole “I’m the Devil and I’ll kill you all,” routine.” 

“Would you have actually killed them?” Ella asked, wondering if her trust in him was misplaced. 

“I couldn’t have,” Lucifer said simply. “Though I have never personally tried it, I can’t kill humans. I might have maimed them though. I’ve had quite enough of being imprisoned to last a lifetime. Even mine.” 

“Most people haven’t personally killed another, Lucifer,” Chloe added, trying to cover his slip up with the human talk. She only hoped Ella either missed it or would brush it off as him and his Luciferness. She gave him a pointed glare she hoped Ella wouldn’t see, “and be realistic, you couldn’t have fought an entire FBI operation and won.”

“I certainly could have,” he said, not understanding her glare. “They were only humans, Detective.” 

“Yeah, Chloe, he _is_ the Devil,” Ella said. “It’s not like the FBI can combat the Devil. I don’t even think the SEALs could do it. Has anyone ever taken you in a fight, Lucifer?”

“Just my brothers,” Lucifer replied cheerily. “And not all of them can either. Especially when I have my wings. Once, I took an entire legion of demons on by myself.”

“Wait, what?” Chloe asked, trying to wrap her head around the odd dynamic going on between her partner and Ella. She was talking like she _knew_ , and he like he knew that she knew. When had Ella found out? How had she? Anders?

“Oh, yes,” Lucifer replied. “Foolish things though that they could lead a rebellion. Assembled a legion and marched up from the Lake of Despair towards the throne. They thought my wings were just for show too. Learned their lesson. I left a few alive to tell the tale. Maze was so irritated with me for taking all the fun for myself. And--"

"Lucifer," Chloe hissed, jerking her head pointedly at Ella. 

"Oh, that was what your glare was about," he said slowly. "Don't worry, darling. That is a nonissue. She knows."

"She knows?"

"And figured it out all on her own by studying my blood, just like you would have years ago if you hadn't listened to my hollier-than-thou brother," he said smugly. "I can't believe you believed _Amenadiel_ over me."

"You have to admit he made more sense," Chloe sighed. "I'm sorry but claiming that you are actually the Devil and were shot, bled out and went to hell but came back makes _much_ less sense than Hollywood special effects in LA." He rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"So, wait … when did you die?" Ella asked, feeling confused. "And why didn't I get access to that blood then?"

"Which time?" Lucifer mumbled while Chloe ignored him, answering her question. 

"Back when Malcolm kidnapped Trixie, Lucifer followed me to protect me while I tried to pay the ransom. Malcom shot him and he … died, apparently," Chloe said. 

"And when Chloe got poisoned," Lucifer added. "Dr. Linda killed me that time. At my request," he added at their horrified looks. "And she brought me back after Mazikeen killed Mum, who pulled me out of a hellloop."

"What?" Ella asked, turning to face him before Chloe snapped at her to look at the road. 

"Maybe this is a conversation for another time," Chloe suggested pointedly. "When no one's driving and we can't drive off the road or into oncoming traffic."

"Spoil sport," Ella grumbled. "In that case, Chloe, how was it to finally do the dirty with the Devil?" Chloe sputtered comically while Lucifer laughed and leaned forward to clap Ella on the shoulder. 

"Who said we did _that_?" Chloe demanded glaring at the Devil who was beaming. 

"I knew that there was a reason I liked you Ms. Lopez," he laughed. "Such a lack of inhibitions."

"Ella," she offered. "If I get to call the King of Hell by his given name then he can call me by mine."

" _Retired_ King and _chosen_ name," he corrected. "And no, I won't tell you the one on my birth certificate."

"Archangels have birth certificates?" Chloe asked. He laughed softly and shook his head, an indulgent smile on his face, nearly hidden in his beard. 

"Such a naive thing," Ella muttered. "Of course he doesn't have a birth certificate. Lucifer doesn't even have fingerprints."

"Actually I do," he added. "Just not in any databases. It wouldn't do to have them flag me in this time a few hundred or thousand years down the road, would it? But I do _have_ fingerprints."

"You will have to show me how you get out of things sometime," Ella said, appreciation permeating her tone.

"Don't encourage him, please," Chloe begged, rubbing the growing headache behind her eyes. While it would give her someone who wasn't a therapist to talk to when she got freaked out, she wasn't sure uniting Ella and Lucifer was a good idea.


	17. Home

Ella drove them to Chloe's house, where the cluster of cars outside forewarned her to what was to come. Recognizing Dan's car she was out of the door before Ella's had come to a complete stop. Halfway up the drive it registered that she was alone. Lucifer was standing awkwardly beside Ella's car, his filthy tattered suit ruining the air of casual elegance he was clearly trying and failing for. 

"Are you coming?" she asked, holding her hand out expectedly. He shifted his weight looking at her with an odd mix of longing and reluctance.

"It's you they wish to see," he said softly. "It is your house they flock to."

"We were worried about you too, Lucifer," Ella added, from her place in the driver's seat. "Dan even asked about you."

"Wondered if I was dead, did he?" Lucifer asked sarcastically.

"Worried, actually," Ella added. "I think Maze is here." Lucifer rolled his eyes but couldn't completely hide his excitement that she was alive and he might be able to verify it himself. And, perhaps, ask her what she'd done to keep him from being able to sense her. With a final thank you to Ella for the ride , when she made it clear that she wasn't coming in due to it being a 'family thing' he headed up the drive to join Chloe. 

He stopped at the door, remembering how upset Chloe had been with him in the past for entering without permission. She smiled at him, threading her fingers through his and opened the door. They were instantly grabbed around the hips by a blur of hyper child. He watched as Chloe dropped his hand, gathered her daughter into her arms and sat on the floor alternately holding her, stroking her hair and kissing her all while reaffirming her love for her child. He looked away, slightly uncomfortable as them being separated was indirectly his fault and slightly jealous. He couldn't remember either of his parents ever treating him like that. 

"Welcome back," Dan said walking towards him. "You look like hell."

"Thank you for that observation, Detective Douche," he replied, his tone haughty. "I would love to see how you would look after the week I've had." 

"Yeah, I heard Pierce wasn't … Ella told me … look, man, thank you," he said finally. "Ella told me you took a good deal of punishment for Chloe's sake and I just want to say thank you."

"I didn't do it for thanks," Lucifer replied, unsure if he should be offended at the implication that even something so important to him had been done in exchange for something so cheap. 

"I know and that's why I'm giving them to you," Dan replied, about to clap him on the shoulder before pulling back, unsure where Lucifer might be injured, patting the back of his hand instead. "I'm glad that you were looking out for her. And I know you don't need it or care to have it, but whatever's going on between you two, you've got my blessing." Lucifer looked at him a moment, trying to detect a lie or ulterior motive and unable to find one. 

"Thank you, Daniel," he said slowly. "I will take your blessing. Even if I would rather have your pudding."

"You know they sell that at the grocery store, right? And you have more than enough money to afford it," Dan asked, exasperated and amused that the consultant was trying to joke with him despite all he'd been through.

"It tastes better when it's stolen," he countered. "And when it annoys you." Whatever Dan was going to say was cut off as a small blur crashed into Lucifer attaching herself to his legs like a limpet.

"Hello, Urchin," he said, patting her head awkwardly. He tried to extract himself without hurting her but she only clung more tightly, her fingers digging into the small of his back. He expected her to thank him for returning her mother and was prepared to offer her a pat and then extract himself from her hold, but then he heard the words mingled with her sobs.

"You're alive. And you're back. I was worried about you, Lucifer." He was shocked. She had been worried for his safety as well as her mother's. And there was no sign of deceit; her words rang true. This child, in fear for her mother's life, had spared him a thought as well.

"Monkey, you know that Lucifer doesn't like--" Chloe began only to cut herself off as Lucifer shook his head and waved her off. 

"Child, Beatrice," Lucifer said, getting her attention. She lifted her face without removing her head from his side. "You have my sincerest apologies for having worried you. I will do my best that it not happen again."

"Do you promise," Trixie asked, her dark eyes suggesting that she knew just how binding a promise from him would be. He found himself wondering just what Mazikeen had told this young human. 

"I promise," he whispered. The triumphant look in her eye cemented for him the fact that she knew exactly what she'd done. As did her next statement.

"Then I know you will," she said cuddling back into his side. "Because you don't break promises. Which is good. I would miss you if you were gone. It would make me sad." He let out a small sound of discomfort unsure what to do with affection that felt so familial. He looked to Chloe hoping she could offer him guidance but she too seemed at a loss, all she could do was smile sadly at her daughter.

"Ok, baby," Dan said, misinterpreting the sound as one of pain and trying to aid Lucifer in getting Trixie to let go. "The people who kept them weren't very nice to Lucifer. I think you might be hurting him."

"I'm fine, Daniel," Lucifer assured him, his pride stung at the very idea of a human _child_ causing him physical pain. After a moment of indecision, Lucifer stepped back slightly, his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place and knelt, taking her face in his hands and looking into her brown eyes. 

"I do not intend to leave again," he said. "And there are few forces in heaven or hell that can compel me to do anything against my will. Do you understand what that means, Beatrice?" 

"That you'll stay," she said, a happy smile splitting her face. He nodded.

"Yes, Child, as long as you and your mother will have me," he replied seriously. This time he wasn't surprised by the hug, returning it gently and resting his cheek in her head. 

"I love you, Lucifer," the child offered. He stiffened slightly, taken aback by how freely this child offered her affections. And how little she asked in return. Did she not know that admitting to love gave others ammunition to hurt you? He felt rage boil at the idea that someone might even consider hurting this child and promised himself that her trust and affection would not be in vain. No one would hurt the child he had chosen to protect. He would unleash Hell on any who tried. His own reaction surprised him. He froze at the realization that he cared for this young human, perhaps even loved her almost like he'd loved his younger siblings but not quite the same. Feeling his stiffness, she froze and attempted to pull away. He allowed in but only so that he could look into her eyes once more. 

"It appears that I've grown quite fond of you as well, Urchin," he replied a touch too late before pulling away and breaking their hug entirely before climbing to his feet, surprised by just how stiff he still was. "But don't get used to touching me. You are still a sticky creature. I'm allowing it today because this suit is already ruined. There's nothing further you can do to it. However this is not to become our new status quo."

"You say that but you don't mean it," Trixie said grinning. "Not that you're lying, you don't do that but you also don't always tell the whole truth. Even if each of those things are true, it doesn't mean that together they make a truth."

"You spend too much time with Mazikeen," Lucifer said, rapidly developing a new appreciation for Chloe's spawn. "I will have to discuss with her appropriate things to teach you. Prevarication is not on the list. I believe your mother would prefer outright honesty."

"What's prevari--"

"Prevarication is when you reply in a way that is not untrue but is not entirely true either," Lucifer explained. "Not I skill that I feel your mother will appreciate us cultivating in you."

"Yeah, I'd rather she learn that on her own as an adult " Chloe added. "Come on, monkey. Let Lucifer rest. I'm tired and I'm sure he's tired. He hasn't gotten much sleep the past few days. And he's not particularly used to children." 

"Do you want me to keep her tonight so that you can rest?" Dan asked. Despite how much she had missed her daughter, Chloe wanted to say yes. A night alone in her own bed was terribly tempting. Her daughter's plea to stay with her changed her mind. 

"She can stay," Chloe said. "I've missed her, Dan. I ... I thought I..." Dan nodded, understanding what Chloe couldn't say and pulling his ex-wife into a hug where she clung to him, her tears dripping down his neck.

"You made it back," he whispered. "You still get to see her." Chloe nodded, breaking the hug and moving to stand beside Lucifer and Trixie, wiping her face. Lucifer's arm came up to rest around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest. She went willingly, nuzzling her cheek into his arm and wrapping her own around his waist. He felt a twinge of pain, anger and jealousy but not for them, for the loss of Charlotte, for the joy that Pierce had stolen from him. Happy as he was that Chloe was happy, he couldn't bring himself to look at them with his own heart bearing a gaping hole.

"So, um, I guess I'll head out and let you all rest," he said heading towards the door. "I really am glad you're back. Try not to do that again." Chloe smiled at him but said nothing. As he left, Chloe turned to him and asked, "Dan, did Mom know that I was kidnapped?" He nodded. "Does she know that I'm back?" Another nod. "Then where is she?" A shrug this time. 

"She didn't say," Dan replied. "She asked me to give you her love. But I wasn't going to do it. I figured that would hurt more than thinking she didn't know." He'd been right. That her mother couldn't be bothered to come see her after she'd been kidnapped, it hurt.

"Thanks, Dan. And thank you for coming," Chloe said. He nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

"If it helps, Chloe," Lucifer offered, his tone suggesting he knew it didn't, "Dad didn't come either." She offered him a smile but it felt forced. 

"I don't think God would fit in our house," Trixie said, confirming for Lucifer that she did know the truth about himself and Mazikeen. And still the clever little creature embraced him and trusted him with love. He felt his fondness for her growing more with each small revelation. 

"Why would you say that, Monkey?" Chloe asked, trying again to cover a truth that had already been learned. He smiled at her persistence but wished she recognized exercises in futility and didn't continue promoting the idea that he was just a nutter. It wasn't as if there was harm in people knowing, he hadn't made any effort to keep it a secret, telling all and sundry his identity. They would believe him or they wouldn't and they couldn't hurt him either way. 

"Because Lucifer's the Devil," she said simply. "He's always said it and Maze confirmed it. She even told me that he used to be an angel and has _wings_. Isn't that cool? I bet he can fly."

"Finally!" Lucifer crowed. "Someone who realizes my wings aren't just decorative! I may be willing to break my "no children" rule for you, Offspring."

"Lucifer" Chloe hissed, glaring at him. He sighed, exasperation winning out over amusement.

"She _knows_ , darling," he said simply. "And while I do appreciate you attempting to smooth things over and lie where I cannot, it is futile with those that already know. And unnecessary because those that don't won't believe me anyway. You didn't."

"She's my _daughter_ , Lucifer," Chloe countered, ignoring the part where he was certain that Trixie knew he really was the Devil. "What if she goes to school telling everyone that you're the actual Devil? She'll end up institutionalized or I'll end up under CPS investigation. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not," he snapped affronted that she could ask if he wished ill for her or her child. "I am merely telling you that you cannot hide the truth of this from her. She already knows. Did Mazikeen tell you or show you?" He asked turning back to Trixie expectantly.

"Both," Trixie. "She showed me her face at Halloween. It was cool. All melty and awesome."

"What?" Chloe asked as Lucifer nodded. "Her face isn't melty."

"It's a glamour, dear," he said glancing up at Chloe before returning his attention to young Beatrice. "What else did she tell you, Child?"

"That you're the Devil but that you'd never hurt me or mommy," she replied brightly. "She said you've 'gone soft' whatever that means. I already knew about your glowy eyes but she said you have more than that hidden. Oh, and that you have big glowing wings. Can I see them?" He looked at Chloe, shrugging slightly to show his willingness if she agreed. While they weren't a parlor trick, the child was special. 

"Will it … you know, melt her brain?" She asked, reluctant to say yes if he wasn't entirely sure that Trixie would be fine. Anders hadn't been fine and that was with just a glimpse.

"The kid can handle it," came a voice from the door. They turned to see Maze leaning against the doorframe trying to look like that wasn't all that was holding her upright. "Didn't even bat an eye at seeing my face and that's a zillion times more intimidating than his wings." Lucifer scoffed but Chloe was more worried about her roommate. 

"Come on, Maze, sit," she said trying to usher the demoness into a chair. "You look like …"

"Like you've been through Hell," Lucifer supplied with a smirk. Maze sneered at him.

"I wish," she muttered sitting in the chair with a groan. "At least then I'd have an excuse for having gotten my ass kicked."

"How many were there," Chloe asked, trying to decide how her demon roommate would feel about being fussed over before deciding that she would still fuss. Maze was just going to have to deal with it.

"Shouldn't've mattered. They were human," Maze replied dismissively. "I should have taken all twelve of them easily."

"Only twelve?" Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow a teasing glint in his eyes. "You're slipping, Mazikeen."

"Oh yeah?" she snapped, turning to face him, looking him over with a critical eye, taking in the circles under his eyes, his disheveled hair and beard and tattered clothing. "You don't look any better than I do. How many did it take to take you down, O Lord of Hell?" 

"That is entirely beside the point, Mazikeen," Lucifer replied primly. "Forget how many humans it took to subdue us, why couldn't I tell that you were alive. What did you do?"

" _I_ didn't do anything," she scoffed. " _That_ was you. Remember back when you fired me? Severed ties? Those weren't just words, Lucifer. You cut our connection. You didn't just close it. You literally cut me off. I didn't even know that you were in trouble before Linda told me you'd been kidnapped. And I couldn't find you until that flash fire of power that came across my senses like a nuclear bomb. What the fuck did you do, anyway? And why wasn't it enough to get you out? That much expenditure of power and you still needed rescued. Maybe _you're_ the one who's slipping."

"How long ago?" Lucifer asked, his ire at the severed bond fading at his realization that he had been the cause and his interest piqued at this flash fire of power. He even chose to ignore her criticism of his abilities in favor of getting answers he needed. 

"A few days," she replied, wondering at his interest in something that he had to have been the cause of. Amenadiel didn't have that kind of power. Only Lucifer, Michael and God could have caused it and only one of them was on Earth.

"Think back," he insisted, pacing towards her. "Did it _feel_ like my power?"

"Lucifer, no one else on earth has that kind of power," she argued."I didn't analyze it. It could only have been you."

"That is _not_ what I asked," he snapped, grabbing her shoulders, ignoring her grimace as her injuries were aggravated by his hold. "I am well aware of who on this Earth commands that kind of power and you should continue to remember it."

"Lucifer," Chloe admonished, shocked at the sudden show of temper. "Hey, that's uncalled for. You don't need to yell. What's gotten into you?"

"Answer the question, Mazikeen," he said, staring into her eyes as if to compel the answer. He watched her seethe before her gaze unfocused her face becoming pensive.

"It didn't," she said, glaring up at him. "Not really. Your power, not that you've used it enough lately for me to know while playing the LAPD's lap dog, usually feels … a bit angrier. More destructive. This was controlled, collected and almost … affectionate and warm. Yours is usually hotter. But no one else has that much of it. So it had to have been you." Lucifer groped for a chair for a moment, as if he wasn't seeing his surroundings before sitting down heavily. Chloe called his name and moved towards him while Maze looked unimpressed.

"Why is it so important?" she demanded.

"Did you feel anything odd? See anything odd?" he asked, looking at Chloe, wondering if she had felt what he had, if she even could. "The first night I was suspended. When you escaped you handcuffs and offered me the chair."

"No," she said, shaking her head before reconsidering. "You were talking to someone that wasn't there. I couldn't understand what you were saying, it didn't sound like a language but it clearly was. You … you were… and then it looked like you leaned into a touch but there was no one there. I thought you were dreaming and tried to figure out what to do when something told me I had to touch you. I couldn't stop my hand. That was odd. I just knew that I _had_ to touch you."

"That was compulsion" Lucifer muttered, his head in his hands. "You asked me what it feels like when I draw out desires, it is very similar. People find that they want to tell me what they desire. As you know, some can resist. You could have resisted it if you wanted to. But you didn't have a reason to, it's not like you didn't _want_ to touch me."

"It was just a thought, Lucifer," she countered. "No one actually told me anything. I just had a feeling that I should touch you. Comfort you. I wanted to I just needed to know it was the right thing and a feeling told me it was."

It wasn't a feeling," Lucifer insisted. It was Dad. I didn't imagine it. He actually came. The picture, the compulsion. It all fits. I thought I'd imagined it, His touch. His blessing."

"Wait," Maze asked, "your Dad came to Earth and he was in the same space as you and not only did you and the planet survive but that nuclear bomb of energy was him _blessing_ you?"

"It seems so," Lucifer replied, his tone distant.

"Why?" Chloe and Maze asked nearly simultaneously. _Because_ _I repented of my pride,_ Lucifer thought but was unwilling to admit in front of Mazikeen. 

"I do not know," he said finally. "But, if I recall, I have a spawn to impress."

"Are you _sure_ she'll be alright?" Chloe demanded. 

"She'll be fine," Maze replied. "She's got this, Decker. And while you've got them out, Lucifer, I wouldn't complain if you shed a feather or two."

"I'll see what I can do," he replied turning to Trixie and watching her carefully. "No touching."

"Deal," she agreed. He nodded, before flashing just the right wing into reality for a millisecond to gauge her reaction. She showed no signs of an untoward reaction so he rolled his shoulders bringing his wings into this reality wishing he'd done show-and-tell in the penthouse rather than Chloe's home. What he really desired was to stretch them out but that was impossible in the available space without risking breaking something. Trixie reached out for a second before remembering her promise and dropping her hand. 

"They're so pretty," she said, beaming up at him before her expression became serious. "But Maze is right. Her face is much more intimidating." Lucifer sputtered while Chloe smiled at them affectionately and Maze looked triumphant, her eyes skimming over his wings and narrowing dangerously as they caught sight of the metallic grommets still embedded in his wings. She opened her mouth and began asking about his new piercings but Lucifer tossed her a small feather from near the base of his wing shaking his head. She swallowed down the rest of her question for the time being and she accused him of being stingy bith with feathers and information. As Chloe watched the Devil, a demon and her daughter bicker in her kitchen she decided that even if she didn't know how it had become her life it wasn't a bad life to have. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of this one but there are about 7 chapters of a sequel already written and more in the works.


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